Moments of Weakness
by DKM
Summary: UPDATED 2 6 2009. Temperance Brennan is a very independent woman. Her life is defined by her ability to be self sufficient. But when a major injury threatens that independence, can she cope? Or will she find that dependency is rewarding?
1. Prologue

**_Moments Of Weakness_**

By: DKM

Rating: T

Pairing: Brennan/Booth

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: Temperance Brennan is a very independent woman. Her life is defined by her ability to be self sufficient. But when a major injury threatens that independence, can she cope? Or will she find that dependency may be rewarding?

A/N: Hello. D, again, with her many muses. This time my NY muse, Paris, decided to help Allegra with her new venture. She's the angsty one who's repulsed by too much fluff, but occasionally allows it in her fics. This story comes out of personal experiences, and therefore is a labor of love for me. I'm hoping I do right by all the fans out there. Please, give me a chance, and don't forget, the muses thrive on reviews, so if you like the story, let me know. If you find something wrong with it, again, let me know! I'm all ears and I have never taken a comment as negative unless someone was personally attacking ME, the human being. Otherwise, everything else is fair game. You won't hurt my feelings if you find a hole in my plot or the characters are being written wrong. It's usually my job to point those things out, being a seasoned beta, but I always appreciate it when someone points it out to me as well. Good karma.

Disclaimer: All "Bones" characters belong to FOX. I'm just using them to please my muses for the time being. I'm not making any money, I swear! This is just a great way to deal with the crappy life I live.

Warning: Ratings are subject to change, depending on the muses' moods.

Special Thanks: A big shout out to my betas, **wrthy2bluvd**, **Gaelen Kerr**, and **Sheblers**. Thanks for letting me bounce ideas off you at all hours of the day and thanks for all the feedback. You rock!

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A simple touch was all it took to wake her; the sweep of a hand over her forehead brushing away the errant strands of sepia colored hair that tickled her nose and her cheeks. She sighed deeply, letting whoever it was know she was waking. Ever so slowly her steel blue eyes opened to find the room dark, the light of the half moon shining through the vertical blinds to her left while a single fluorescent tube illuminated the rest of the room from above her head. Wherever this was, it wasn't home, and a frown immediately appeared on her parched lips. As she tried to wet them with her tongue, she realized it too was dry, along with her throat.

"Bones…" Now there was something familiar. A hand wrapped around her own and she gazed over in the direction the voice was coming from to find her partner sitting in a chair, the worry etched on his handsome face. She could see it in his eyes, the dark pools of amber shining in the pale moonlight, shimmering with what looked like concern and possibly fear.

"Where… where am I?" she asked, feeling slightly groggy and bleary-eyed, her voice harsh and raspy in her ears. She wanted to wipe the cobwebs from her eyes, but her arms felt so heavy that she gave up trying to lift them. At the moment, his worry failed to faze her, as did the fact that she wasn't able to move. It wasn't until he spoke again that the gravity of the situation hit her.

"You're at the hospital," he softly replied, glancing down at their joined hands to hide whatever it was his eyes would convey if she were to look into them. "Do you remember what happened?"

Now the fear began to creep in. A million thoughts raced through her mind as she contemplated his question looking for the answer. Her heart rate sped up as she began to breathe a bit faster, her mind unable to come up with even a remotely satisfying explanation as to how she'd ended up at the hospital. Bits and pieces of the last few days slowly began to drift through her drug addled brain; a suspect fleeing with a gun poised to hit her partner, a high kick knocking it out of his hand, a pain in her leg, what felt like a hot knife slicing through her upper thigh…

"Did I get shot?" she finally asked, coming up with the most logical explanation her mind could procure in its current state. His response was quite unexpected. He chuckled! She cocked her head to the side and stared at him, her eyes sharp and livid. "Booth, that's not funny." Her tone conveyed her discontent with him at the moment.

"Yes it is, because you weren't shot," he said, finally looking relaxed for the first time since she'd woken up.

She should have taken it as a good sign, but her anger refused to budge. She's just gotten laughed at by her partner, and she still didn't know how she'd ended up in the hospital. "Then why am I here?" Again irritation was present in her voice.

"You really don't remember what happened?" he asked again. She just stared at him waiting for the answer. His eyes dropped away once more, refusing to look at her. "What did that doctor give you?"

"Booth, what happened?" she demanded. She didn't like it when he switched the subject, and knew almost instantly she wasn't going to like his answer.

"Do you remember anything at all about last night?" he asked again, his voice low, even, serious.

She started to shake her head, closing her eyes in the process as she tried to concentrate on the events that could have led to this outcome when it suddenly hit her. Like a torrent, the memories rushed to the forefront of her mind and she was transported back to three days earlier…

--

AN: I'm a nasty little bugger, aren't I? Hehe. So, you want more? Better let the muses know! Please be nice and submit a review. And I promise the next update will be MUCH longer. This is just the prologue. I've got a lot more fun stuff in store for all y'all!


	2. Chapter 1

_AN: Sorry for being such a bugger with the last chapter. Trust me, from this point on, it'll keep getting interesting. I promise!_

_Special thanks to **wrthy2bluvd **for all her help giving me ideas for this story and helping me make the necessary changes to keep it moving along, and to **Gaelen Kerr** for putting up with me even though he's never seen an episode of the show. Luv ya!_

**_PSA: Please feed the muses! Every review you donate goes towards their wellbeing (and my sanity). I love all y'all that are watching the story, so please, let me know how you feel! It helps me to write faster. Not to mention it really helps the muses because they're such fickle creatures. They need all the encouragement they can get.  
_**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Stay back, Bones." To say he was getting on her nerves would be an understatement. Temperance Brennan wasn't some damsel in distress, she was a self reliant, self made, independent woman that didn't need a man to tell her what to do, especially when what she did was comparable to what he did. In this instance, she and her partner, Seeley Booth, were on the trail of a suspected murderer. His gun was held out in front of him as he kicked the steel door of the old building open and glanced inside.

Instead of listening to him, she pulled out her own gun, a very large and very shiny piece of weaponry, checking to make sure it was cocked and loaded just in case she'd need it to shoot a bad guy. The click of the safety being pulled back alerted her partner to what she was doing and from her right she heard him ask, "What's with you and that gun?"

"If it's size intimidates you, I'm sorry," came her matter-of-fact response as she held it out in front of her while they entered the abandoned warehouse a witness had tipped them off to only an hour earlier. They'd rushed to the location, called for backup then went in to investigate. It was something the forensic anthropologist never got tired of. She loved the chase, the freedom, and the feeling of doing good that came along with it. There was a sense of purpose to her life when she went after murderers, especially ones that had killed several times over.

"It's not intimidating. It's just… I'm afraid you might hurt yourself."

"While I appreciate your concern, I think I can take care of myself."

"Why do you always have to be so self-reliant?"

That came out of nowhere. She stared at his back for several moments as he continued to make his way through the labyrinth of decaying wooden crates looking for their suspect. "Is my self reliance intimidating, then?" she asked, stopping and putting her hands on her hips as she waited for his answer.

Booth let out a frustrated sigh as he turned around to shoot her a warning glare. "Can we not discuss this right now? We're trying to catch a serial killer," he shot back.

"Or is it the fact that I'm very independent?" she continued. This was turning into a standoff between the two partners, and she could clearly see he was getting edgy now.

"Bones, we'll talk about this later." His eyes flashed amber in the darkness, and she knew she'd gotten under his skin.

"It _is_ my independence that intimidates you!" she said almost triumphantly.

"It doesn't intimidate me!" he practically shouted at her. Ooh, testy! She'd struck a nerve and would continue to prod until he gave in and told her what was on his mind. But it wouldn't get that far. The shuffle of a box against the concrete floor perked up both their ears sending their eyes scanning all directions until Booth heard it again coming from just in front of them.

He motioned for Brennan to follow as he led them deeper into the warehouse, careful not to make a sound. His earlier outburst had probably alerted their suspect to their presence, and he cursed himself for getting so riled up over her comments. But when she said things like that, he couldn't help himself. His anger would get to the best of him, leading to an unwanted argument.

With his mind preoccupied by his partner's brazenness, Booth didn't see the shadow on the floor in front of him until it was too late and a fist connected with his gut. He immediately doubled over in pain just as his attacker was about to bash him over the head with the butt of his gun. It all seemed to happen in slow motion; the hand coming down, the steel shimmering in the spotty sunlight, his heart racing, his mind bracing itself for the blow. But it never came.

From behind, Brennan had seen everything, yet was unable to help her partner for the initial blow. When he landed on the ground just inches from her feet, her body moved as if on autopilot. Her left leg came swinging up full force, connecting with the suspect's arm and knocking the gun out of his grasp. What she hadn't counted on was the sharp pain that shot up from her thigh and ran the length of her leg as she let it drop. Thankfully by that time Booth had regained his footing and pounced on the suspect, knocking him to the ground face first as he reached for his belt to grab a pair of handcuffs.

Once the man had been subdued, he glanced up at her, and she caught the grateful look in his eyes before he even said it. "Thanks, Bones." That was all. And it was just enough. She gave him a small smile as she leaned against an old, splintering crate to keep the weight off her left leg. The pain seemed to radiate out from her hamstring. Even the slightest weight would send it throbbing. 'Damn,' she thought, rubbing her hand over the affected area as her partner walked past, his brows slightly furrowed.

"You okay, Bones?" Booth asked, pausing for a moment to see if she needed any help.

"I'm fine," she reassured before pushing herself off the box and putting a little weight on her leg to test her pain threshold. It wasn't horrible, but it was bad enough to make her limp slightly as she walked a few steps behind him so he wouldn't see.

As they made it to the door, they were met by several squad cars and officers in uniform. From that point on, things happened in fast forward. They handed the suspect off to the local precinct, all the while Brennan stood in place as her partner did all the talking and walking for both of them. It was the first time she'd sat back and it made her feel slightly useless. But she'd gotten the bad guy, she'd saved Booth from a bad headache, yet she still felt as if she wasn't a part of the bust at all. Feeling slightly deflated, she limped her way back to the Tahoe.

"Bones!" she heard Booth call from behind her and immediately stopped, hoping he hadn't seen the way she walked. He caught up to her moments later, turning to face her as he asked, "Are you sure you're okay? Looks like your leg might be bothering you."

"Booth, I'm fine," she said a little forcefully.

"I'm just saying, if you need a ride to the hospital…"

"Booth, I just need a ride back to the lab. I'll be fine." Her heated tone should have told him to drop it, to leave it at that, but that never stopped him, especially when she was in pain.

"Bones, you're not fine, you're limping."

"Nothing a little ice and ibuprofen won't fix." She started to walk determinately towards the Tahoe, her back stiff straight as she somehow managed a normal gait even though it hurt like hell.

Booth shortly followed, and as she was climbing into the passenger's seat, the pain shot through her again making her wince. He could see the expression on her face, the way her eyes closed tightly, the way she gritted her teeth until she found a position she was comfortable in. Taking his place beside her in the driver's seat, he started to say, "Bones…" but her glare quickly shut him up.

They drove in relative silence all the way back to the lab. No bickering, no friendly banter, just silence. Brennan stared out the window, her head resting on her hand as her mind tried to figure out a way to relinquish the pain with the minimal amount of drugs and effort. It being a hamstring injury, maybe heat would help instead of ice. There was a first aid kit in her office fully stocked with bandages and heat packs. Yes, that would work just fine. That and two ibuprofen. She'd be all right in a couple of days.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Brennan said as she hopped out of the SUV without so much as a goodbye when Booth pulled up to the lab entrance. In a show of strength and willpower, she walked up the steps in a normal gait, pushing through the door with a little more force than she'd expected. Her partner was left slack jawed and wide eyed by her display, but she didn't see the worried look he gave her as he pulled away heading back to his office to finish the paperwork on the case. Instead, she slumped against the door for several moments, catching her breath as the waves of pain rolled over her.

Maybe she did need to go to the hospital and get this checked out… 'No!' her mind screamed. 'You're a doctor, for crying out loud! You know what's wrong and you know how to fix it, so go fix it.' There was no arguing with her logic. Gingerly, she limped towards her office, somehow managing to bypass her coworkers and friends, and made sure to close and lock the door behind her before grabbing the first aid kit from her desk.

Ibuprofen, check; bandage, check; water, check; heat pack, check; she had all she needed in order to take care of herself without going to the hospital. The ibuprofen and water came first followed by the heat pack wrapped around her thigh with the bandage. Brennan eased herself into her chair and leaned back with her hand over her eyes. The day had taken a lot out of her, and going home sounded like a good idea until someone knocked on her door, forcing her to put on yet another front for whoever was behind it. She stood and slowly walked over, forcing a smile on her face as she unlocked the door and let in her visitor.

"I heard you took down another suspect today," Angela Montenegro said as she waltzed into her friend's office. The feisty brunette sat down on the couch and turned to give her friend a smile.

"Who did you hear that from?" Brennan replied, remaining by the door to use it as leaning post. Limping back to her desk wasn't an option when Angela was around. She was practically Booth's counterpart in times like these. Any sign of weakness and she'd be all over you wanting to help. No, not today; today, Temperance Brennan could take care of herself. That fierce independent spirit was really showing itself.

"Who else?" The smile turned into a snide grin. Brennan began to knead her temple with her fingers. "You know what else he told me?" Oh, no… "He said you might have hurt yourself and he wanted me to check on you." Damn…

"I'm fine, Angela. I just pulled a muscle, that's all. I've already taken some ibuprofen and wrapped it with a heat pack. I'll be fine in a day or two," came Brennan's practiced, albeit annoyed, answer. Now that she was standing, it didn't hurt as bad as it had at the warehouse. The heat and the ibuprofen were working. This would probably go away by tomorrow.

"You sure, Sweetie?" Angela needed reassurance. She knew her friend like the back of her hand, and when Brennan was hurting, inside or out, she usually kept it to herself. Sometimes it was a good idea to poke and prod just to make sure everything was okay.

"Yeah, see?" Brennan mustered up whatever energy she had left to push herself off the door and walked a straight line back to her desk all the while keeping her eyes on her toes willing them to move without too much pain. She sat down in her chair and leaned back, glad it was over. The pain came and went as she walked forcing her to revise her earlier assessment that maybe she'd be fine in a few days.

Apparently satisfied, Angela stood up. "Alright, _Dr._ Brennan, whatever you say. If you think you're fine, and you look fine, then I'll stop bothering you. You _are_ the doctor, after all." She didn't sound too happy, having noticed the way her friend had to concentrate in order to get to her chair, but decided it was against her better judgment to argue with such a stubborn woman. "If you need anything, call me." And with that, she walked out the door. Brennan let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived when her friend walked back in and added, "At least go home for the rest of the day."

Her head shot up, steel blue eyes surprised, but she nodded in agreement. At least then she could be at peace while her leg healed. Angela walked back out the door, and this time Brennan watched her disappear in the foot traffic. Again she sighed and gingerly rose off her chair. Grabbing her bag and the case file she knew needed to finish by tomorrow morning, she headed home.


	3. Chapter 2

_AN: Sorry it took so long to post this chapter. I relapsed, well, more like I've been diagnosed with yet another problem relating to my hamstring, and that's a pinched sciatic nerve. I've got an MRI scheduled some time this week, just waiting for approval from my insurance company. Until then I'm on Vicodin and ibuprofen for the pain. It really sucks! I don't know how much writing I'll be doing, but I'm going to try and keep it up. It's something that keeps me going when I'm in hell. I'm just glad I've finally got an idea of what the problem is now, and how it can be fixed. _

_AN2: I'm trying to establish a little sequence of events here, so please be patient! I swear, I'm getting to the reason why Brennan's in a hospital room with Booth. Two more chapters, I promise!  
_

_As always, a big thank you to my beta, **wrthy2bluvd **for her neverending support and her ability to stand me being a pain in the ass with this story. She's gotten me out of trouble several times when the muses have decided to up and leave me, so show her some love!_

**_PSA: Muses are fickle creatures, by nature, and need coaxing. Reviews are most appreciated, but watchers are AWESOME! :D New reading material is always great for someone with a chunk of time on their hands, so I will be getting to those of you who are also writing fics. It just might take some time. But I shall try my best! Thanks so much for your support. My muses thank you as well. Right, Paris, Allegra? Right! Much love! -DK_**

_PS: This is my fave chapter so far._

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**Chapter 2**

Minutes passed and turned into hours as Brennan lay in bed, her leg throbbing with pain. No matter what side she tried to sleep on it continued to angrily pulse, keeping her awake well past midnight. The slightest move was agonizing, the pain radiating out from a spot just below her hip. It was almost impossible to get comfortable. Carefully, she sat up, the pain lessening in the new position except when she tried to put weight on it. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to stand up. She focused on remembering where she'd put her heat pad; the top drawer of the dresser.

Okay, one foot in front of the other, she told herself. It took a while, but gradually she reached her destination and pulled the small pad out from beneath a stack of old t-shirts. The walk back to the bed took just as long, but it seemed like the pain would lessen the more she used her leg. Hopefully tomorrow wouldn't be so bad. Considering she'd figured out how to decrease the pain, it would more than likely go away on its own after a good day's work. Now, if only she could get a good night's sleep as well…

With the heat pad plugged in and turned up as high as it could go, Brennan eased herself back into bed. Another bolt of pain, another silent prayer to whatever deity was out there to make it go away. Closing her eyes, she tried to get back to sleep, but her brain was far from ready to rest. The pain wasn't the only thing on her mind. She was still slightly baffled by Booth's reaction to her comments about independence. What had he been trying to get at while they were in the warehouse? The question bugged her more than the pain.

Her speculations would finally lead to the fitful sleep that didn't last. Before long, it was 6AM, and Brennan needed to get up and ready for work. The heat pad had definitely done the trick. Her pain was gone the moment she woke up. Feeling relieved and relaxed, she grabbed a shower before snatching the last stale bagel out of her bread drawer and slathering it with cream cheese. Breakfast in hand and bag under arm, she rushed out the door at 7 hoping to beat the traffic.

At 7:30, she walked into her lab feeling refreshed and happy. With the pain no longer threatening her sanity, Brennan grabbed her lab coat from her office looking for her latest project, which was sprawled out on a table in one of the side rooms: the one hundred year old skeleton of a missionary found in the Venezuelan rain forest. It was a welcome change of pace from murder victims and kept her occupied well into her lunch hour when Angela stepped into the small room to find her hunched over the table, a magnifying glass in hand, examining some marks she'd found on the sternum.

"Someone's feeling like her old self again," she said, sidling up to her best friend with her hands clasped around a clipboard.

"I told you I'd be fine," Brennan retorted.

"Sorry I ever doubted you, Bren." They exchanged smiles before Angela added, "So, what are you doing for lunch? I was hoping to get out of here for a little while and go to the diner."

"Can't, still in the process of analyzing this skeleton, and I've got another one waiting for me once it's done."

"You're no fun…"

Brennan straightened up for the first time in an hour and that sharp pain returned in the back of her leg. She stumbled slightly, and was glad that Angela had reached out to grab a hold of her arm before she found herself sprawled across the floor.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" The look of genuine concern crossed her friend's face as she continued to hold onto her arm.

"Yeah, I… I don't know what happened there. I think I've been leaning over too long," Brennan answered, trying to cover her tracks without having to lie. She had been hunched over after all. Maybe that's what caused her muscles to tighten and hurt when she stood upright.

"C'mon, you need a break. Let's go to lunch." And with that, Angela dragged her out of the room making a beeline for Brennan's office. Grabbing jackets and purses, they headed down the street to the little diner they frequented at least three times a week.

The weather was gorgeous; a balmy 75 with not a cloud in the sky; the perfect day for a walk in the sunshine. Brennan couldn't stop the smile that formed on her lips as she and Angela walked through the midday foot traffic. A light breeze ruffled through her hair throwing it in several directions. She didn't bother pushing it back into place, though. Her free spirit seemed to open up in this kind of weather, giving her an air of confidence that was usually reserved for triumphs in the lab.

Stepping inside the little corner diner, the two women spotted a table at the back and were making their way towards it when Brennan felt a hand brush her elbow. "Hey, Bones!" Her smile turned into a frown. Go figure… She turned around to see her partner sitting at the counter drinking coffee and eating a slice of pie. The temptation to roll her eyes was great, but somehow she managed to keep herself from doing it. So predictable…

"Looks like you're feeling better," Booth said, his gaze following the contours of her body as she stood there, her arms crossed over her chest holding her light spring jacket. Noticing the edgy look on her face, he knew something was up.

"Yes, much," Brennan curtly answered. She felt a bit tense around him today, his actions from the previous afternoon coming to the forefront of her mind. Her arms shifted in front of her wrapping a little more tightly around her jacket as they stood in utter silence for several moments. She wasn't used to him being so overly worried about her, especially over something as small as a sprained hamstring. While being blown up warranted such concern, this was on the other end of the spectrum. He shouldn't have been so alarmed. She was a doctor, after all, and could easily take care of herself in situations like these. Besides, hadn't she come to _his_ rescue? Now there was a thought to ponder.

Feeling the tension escalate between the two partners, Angela finally had to pipe in and diffuse the situation. "Brennan's fine," she said, feeling a bit like this tension was her fault. Booth had called her, after all, and she had gotten worried about her friend initially until she found her in her office looking just fine. "I told you she could take care of herself." He only nodded at her, refusing to take his eyes off his partner. "You know, we were just about to sit down and have some lunch. Would you like to join us?" The invitation was meant to be friendly, but she could tell by their reactions it was anything but.

Tearing his eyes away from his silent partner, Booth's words seemed to jumble together, "Uh, well, I'm… I was… I'm done. I was just about to head back to the office and finish some paperwork."

"Come on, Angela, Booth is obviously busy. We should leave him alone." The way Brennan seemed to just dismiss him gave him all the more reason to stay.

"You know what? Maybe I will join you. Not like my paperwork's gonna grow legs and walk out of my office. Besides, it's a gorgeous day. Why not spend it with two gorgeous women?" he replied, giving her a cocky grin. The deadpan expression on her face said it all; she wasn't pleased but she wouldn't say anything about it. Instead, she rolled her eyes and turned towards the open table. He and Angela followed, but not before he threw a twenty on the counter for the waitress and grabbed his coffee mug.

When he sat down right beside her, she gave him yet another tense look, but grabbed a menu and started to glance over it without saying a word. He couldn't take it anymore. "What's up with you, Bones? Did I do something to piss you off?"

She looked up from her menu, her expression remaining stony as she pondered her answer. "No," she finally answered nonchalantly.

"Then why are you acting like this?"

Her brows furrowed as she put down the menu and stared at him for a moment. "Acting like what?"

"Like you're mad at me or something?" The earnest way he tried to convey his puzzlement struck a cord with her, and even though she knew he was right, she couldn't help the flood of memories and questions floating back into the forefront of her mind.

"I'm not mad."

He could tell it was the truth, but it was the way she said it that made him wonder if there was more. "Then what?" he continued to ask.

"You never answered my question yesterday."

Huh? "What question?" Now he was really confused.

"Are you intimidated by my independence?"

God, damn it… She had to bring it up again. "What?! I thought I told you I wasn't," he shot back, hoping it would end the argument.

Brennan wasn't so easily persuaded, thought, and immediately she countered, "Then why did you ask me why I always had to be so self-reliant? I thought it was obvious."

"It is obvious…" Booth knew the case file in and out. Ever since she'd asked him to look it over and see if he could help her find her parents and her brother, he'd been a man with a mission. No one deserved to be deserted the way she had, so when he'd found her father after all those years, then found out he'd killed a federal agent in order to keep her safe, he hadn't been able to stop himself from giving her the justice she deserved as well. Although, what followed would be a heartwarming story of a father just wanting to keep his children safe. What had he called Max Keenan? A criminal following his own code… Definitely much better than a dirty cop.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't give him the time to reminisce. "Then why did you even bring it up?" she continued asking. The woman was on a mission, it seemed, and she wasn't going to be satisfied until she got a logical answer from him.

"Because," Booth had to think for a moment. He thought back to the warehouse when this argument had first arisen. She'd pulled out that gun again, the gun that had gotten her in trouble several times over. He appreciated her dedication to the case, but he could have handled it himself. When was she ever going to realize that? Never, he figured, considering how stubborn she was. Telling her flat out seemed to be the only way to get the point across. "Sometimes you need to see that maybe, just maybe, you'd benefit from someone else handling the situation."

"Handling it how?" Brennan immediately retorted, her shoulders thrown back and the expression on her face one of disbelief. "Our suspect almost knocked you out. If it wasn't for me, you'd probably have a concussion right now."

It was becoming nearly impossible to argue with her when she brought up these things, especially when he was trying to get her to see the whole picture, and not the pieces. "That's not the point, Bones."

"Then what is the point?" She still didn't get what he was trying to tell her. It was like he deliberately spun her around in circles to confuse her instead of just telling her flat out.

"Sometimes, you're just a little too independent."

That put the wind under her sails. Her eyes darkened with anger as she spat out, "I've been on my own since I was fifteen. I've had to learn to be self-reliant so I wouldn't have to depend on someone to get things done. Of course I'm a little independent."

"But you do depend on people," he replied, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Who do I depend on?" she fired back, unable to fathom who on earth she could possibly depend on.

"Everyone at the lab."

Oh… Damn him for figuring it out before she did and slapping her with it. "They're my coworkers! We share a symbiotic relationship with each other. When one knows something the others don't, it benefits the team as a whole," she contended.

"There's no arguing with you about this, is there?" He couldn't take it anymore. She had a way of getting to him with words that most people had of getting to him with actions. It was the way she seemed to think she was above everything, which, most of the time was true considering she had three doctorates and still didn't own a TV. But at times like these, when they were discussing such personal things, he wished they were on the same level.

"Obviously not," she quipped, finally focusing her attention on her menu, as if ready to dismiss him again. "I still don't understand why you're questioning my independence."

That was the last straw that propelled him to reply, "I'm not questioning your independence! I'm just saying, sometimes it might be good to give up that independence and see what its like for someone else to take care of you, even if it's for a little while."

She stared at him for several moments considering his answer. So that's what he'd been trying to get at all this time… She shifted in her chair, his eyes boring through her waiting for a reply, which she promptly gave, "I don't think I'd be too comfortable with that."

No, _that_ was the last straw. "Of course not, Bones…" his words dripped with sarcasm and disdain. He turned away from her and took a gulp of his coffee. It had gotten cold, but he could deal with it.

"Are you being condescending?" she asked picking up on the dark tone of his words.

When the pitch of their collective voices had finally risen high enough for the tables to either side of them to stop eating and look in their direction with angry glares, Angela knew it was time to step in. This exchange was quickly turning from bickering into a full blown fight. Grabbing her spoon, she slammed it down on the table and yelled, "Alright, enough! Simmer down!"

The pair immediately went silent and both sets of eyes focused on her for once. "You two sound like an old married couple," she griped.

"Angela!" Brennan shot her a warning, but she ignored it.

"You two should have stuck with therapy, although, thinking about it now, if this is what Sweets has to put up with, I feel sorry for the poor kid." She grabbed her purse and stood up slowly making her way to the other end of the diner.

"Angela," Brennan called after her. When she looked back, the telltale sign of dread was present in her friend's eyes. "Where are you going?"

"The ladies room; I need a break from you two."

Once Angela was out of earshot, Brennan turned to her partner and snapped, "Now look what you did!"

"I didn't do anything!" he shot back. "You're the one who wouldn't drop the independence thing."

"You're the one who brought it up."

"Yeah, yesterday!"

She turned to glare at him, her eyes flashing cobalt as she crossed her arms over her chest. Pushing her chair back, she grabbed her jacket and her purse.

"Bones… Where are you going?" Booth asked as he tried to grab hold of her.

"I can't deal with this right now," she muttered, pushing away from him. "I have to get back to the lab. I have a lot of work to do." Trying to make a quick getaway, she practically ran from the table only to be stopped in her tracks by the searing pain emanating from her hamstring. She braced herself against the counter to regain her footing, and before she knew it, her partner was right behind her with an arm around her waist holding her steady.

"Bones!" His concern was palpable in his voice. She took several deep breaths before glancing up at him, her expression livid.

"I'm fine," she said between gritted teeth before pulling out of his grasp and making a beeline for the door. But she knew she wasn't fine. If the pain was this bad, something had to be wrong. Her mind refused to believe her body, though, and willed itself to walk that short distance back to the Jeffersonian where she could be at peace and not have to deal with all of this.

Booth continued to stand where she'd left him, shocked by how stubborn and forceful she could really be when it came to matters concerning her health. He'd seen the way she grabbed the edge of the counter, how her shoulders had slumped forward and she took in that sharp breath indicating just how much pain she really was in. It was troubling to watch her limp away, and he feared for her wellbeing, but there wasn't really much he could do if she refused his help. He could bully her into going to the hospital, but it would probably cost their friendship and their partnership.

"Where's Brennan?" Angela's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, uh… She got a… phone call… a phone call from the lab. She needed to run back and do something with… bones." She eyed him suspiciously and he gave her one of his million dollar grins hoping it would keep her from asking too many questions. "I guess it's just you and me, then."


	4. Chapter 3

_AN: Oh, what a trying week its been... Relentless back pain, crutches, work, doctor's appointments, MRI's... And now, the worst possible outcome... A herniated disk between the T12 and L1 vertebra on the left side. So my muses have been a bit overwhelmed. Between the fits of crying and talking to various doctors, surgeons, and neurosurgeons, they haven't had much of a drive to write anything. I'm hoping to stimulate them into working again with posting this chapter. If my posts become few and far between, I'm sorry in advance. I'm just hoping that exercise and weight loss with make all of this go away, and I won't need surgery. Wish me luck!  
_

_I would like to thank my beta, **wrthy2bluvd **for all her help, especially now as I sit here, doped up and barely able to move. You're awesome, chica! Thanks so much!  
_

**_PSA: The muses are grateful for all your wonderful responses to the last chapter and hope that you'll continue dishing out the comments because they can't get enough! And a big thank you to the watchers as well. My numbers keep jumping up and I feel like a million bucks! You guys are just awesome! Thanks so much! -DK  
_**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Evening had settled again, the chilly night air filtering through the open window in the bedroom cooling the body on the bed. It was nearly one in the morning, but sleep was fleeting and futile. Booth had been tossing and turning, his mind going over the day's events in detail. His argument with Brennan was the focal point. He'd always known she was an independent spirit, doing things her own way, how she saw fit, and that anyone who tried to change her, tried to put her in a corner, would end up with some pretty nasty cuts and bruises, either physically or emotionally. She'd proved it with him yet again today, and now he was left to lick his wounds in the privacy of his own home.

He shouldn't have goaded her like that, shouldn't have pushed her into trying to see that he could take care of her just as well as she could take care of herself if only she'd let him every once in a while. But she was set in her ways, and independence would always be it. If only there was a time when independence wasn't an option, maybe then he could make her see that it was a part of human nature to be taken care of. He'd seen his share of painful moments with her, and each time, it made his heart ache a little that she would refuse whatever comfort he offered. There were those unguarded moments that they'd shared where it seemed he was the only person she'd turn to when her pain went beyond her threshold, but they were few and far between.

Sighing, he rolled over again, this time facing the window and feeling the cool breeze that made the blinds shudder and sway. What had bothered him more than the argument was the way she'd fled. It wasn't the fact that she ran, but the fact that she'd nearly fallen in the process. Brennan wasn't one to misstep. In fact, she was quite the athlete and had great balance, but the way she'd grabbed onto that counter and put her weight on her right leg alerted him to the possibility that the previous day's bust had taken a greater toll on her than either of them expected. There was no way she was "fine." It was obvious she was in pain, but in her stubbornness she refused medical attention. Seemed like that was always the case with her; only she could take care of herself.

"So damn thick headed," he muttered. Again, he rolled onto his back and tried to fall asleep, but he was still far too riled up to get even a few moments of rest. It didn't help when his phone began to ring from the nightstand. "Booth," he answered without so much as looking at the caller ID. He figured it was probably another case getting dropped into his lap.

"Booth!" his partner's voice came out as a strangled sob from the other end. He sat bolt upright, the blood draining from his face. He'd never heard her sound so scared in his entire life.

"Bones?" he cautiously replied, hoping he was only imagining her fear.

"Oh, God!" she cried out, pain evident in her voice. Another sob escaped her lips as she added, "Please…"

"Bones, are you okay? Is everything alright? What's wrong?" Several horrifying scenarios ran through his head at the moment, all of which made his blood run cold.

"It hurts…" she sobbed. "Please… help me…" It was the last thing he heard her say before the line went dead.

"Bones?" he called out to her. "Bones!" No answer. He looked at his phone. "Call Ended." What the hell was going on? He tried calling her again, but it went straight to voicemail. His heart pounded in his chest. Without thinking, he grabbed a hooded sweatshirt from his closet, his cell phone, keys, ID and gun from the nightstand, and rushed out the door. The fear he'd heard in her voice propelled him down the stairs two at a time until he was in the parking lot yanking open the door to his SUV.

Several more phone calls went straight to voicemail as he pulled into traffic, lights and sirens on. Why on earth were there so many cars on the road at this ungodly hour of the night? He thought as they all pulled to the side allowing him to pass. His heart was still racing as he stepped on the gas, the SUV lurching forward with added speed. Those god awful scenarios ate away at him like maggots on a dead body.

What if she had been attacked? What if she was being held captive? What if she'd hurt herself? What if she was lying in a pool of her own blood? What if she was dead? He pushed the last thought out of his mind, focusing instead on how fast he was going. The speedometer read 95, a feat on the city streets of downtown DC. A drive that should have taken fifteen minutes under normal circumstance only took four by the clock on the dash, but it felt like an eternity.

He didn't know what possessed him to go straight to her apartment, but for some reason that's where his mind told him to go. It was too late for her to be at the lab, and 1AM wasn't a time at which Temperance Brennan would stay out until, even if she was on a date. And there was the next scenario that skimmed through his thoughts… What if she'd been raped? God, no! Enough was enough. He couldn't think like that anymore.

Slamming on the breaks in front of her building, he jumped out of his car and rushed through the front door using the spare key she'd given him almost a year ago after she'd thought someone had killed her brother. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the second floor and grabbed the gun from the waistband of his sweats. Cautiously, he tiptoed towards her door, key in hand. Turning the lock, he pushed it open a crack and peered inside before determining it was safe. The lights were off and all was still and quiet; too quiet… He turned on the hallway lamp and continued to make his way towards the back of the apartment.

"Bones!" He soon made his presence known, but didn't relinquish his hold of the gun. Slowly, he made his way through the front rooms until he reached the master bedroom. Her muffled sobs could be heard behind the door. With great care, he pushed it open with his shoulder and glanced inside. It was dark and the bed sheets were rumpled, but there was no sign of her.

"Bones?" he called again.

"I'm… over here," she said between sobs. Her voice was coming from the other side of the bed near the bathroom. Holstering his gun, he rushed to find her on the hardwood floor curled up in a little ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she clung to her left leg. Clumps of her sepia hair stuck to her face as she gazed up at him with red rimmed eyes.

"Oh, God, Bones…" He knelt down beside her and gently brushed the hair away from her face. "What happened?" His voice was soft and full of concern. Silently, he said a prayer thanking God that she was alive and well, albeit hurting.

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. The pain in her leg was nothing compared to the agony she'd gone through making that phone call. It meant sucking up her pride and proving him right; no matter how independent she was, right now, she needed someone to help her. She'd tried everyone else in her phone book from Angela and Jack to Cam. Neither of them had answered, forcing her to call the last person she wanted to speak to at the moment. Now she was faced with having to tell him how she'd ended up in this position in the first place.

"I fell." That's all she said. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She'd left the lab around 10 that evening, fed up with her inability to get any work done due to the incessant throbbing in her leg. When she'd gotten home that night, she'd gone straight to bed again, the heat pad cranked up to high. Brennan had tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position where the pain would lessen enough to allow her to sleep, but even the slightest movement would send a nauseating bolt through her entire body causing her to curl into a little ball hoping it would go away.

After about two hours, she finally couldn't take it anymore. Sitting up with her feet dangling over the edge of the bed, she attempted to stand only to find it impossible. She hadn't expected it to hurt so much, but when she put the slightest pressure on her leg the pain was jarring, so much so that she fell to the hardwood floor. Several attempts to hoist herself back into bed had failed, leaving her writhing in pain with her phone her only access to the outside world. She hadn't realized the battery was about to die until her conversation with Booth had ended abruptly. 'Shit!' her mind hissed. That's probably why he'd gotten here so quickly.

He nodded, seeing the turmoil in her eyes as she lay silent beside him. It took a lot of courage to do what she'd done, especially after what they'd fought about that afternoon, but he also figured he'd been her last resort. The rest of her squints had probably ignored the call, leaving her only one option. Although he felt somewhat wounded, he didn't show it. She needed strength now, and whining about why she'd hadn't just called him in the first place would only make her withdraw deeper into herself.

"I'm sorry…" she nearly whispered, glancing at her phone. "The battery died."

"Don't worry about it. As long as you're alive, no harm, no foul," he replied with a soft smile. Although she continued to avoid his gaze, she smiled as well while she readjusted her position on the floor so she was laying on her right side. She sucked in a deep breath, her nails digging into the hardwood as the pain traveled through her body yet again.

Pity was the first thing he felt, followed by guilt. If he'd been paying a little more attention at the warehouse, she wouldn't have had to swoop in and save his ass. If he'd seen that suspect, she wouldn't be in this much pain. "Which leg is it?" he asked in hopes that she wouldn't refuse his help.

Surprisingly, she ever so slowly uncurled herself until her knee was straight and said, "Left." She'd worn shorts that night, and the supple, bare flesh of her upper thigh rippled in the pale light coming from the open bedroom door.

"Tell me where it hurts." His voice was barely above a whisper, and although she found it soothing, he found anything louder would give away just how incredibly intimate he felt this act to be. And just as he'd suspected, when he placed the palm of his large hand against the back of her knee, his heart rate seemed to skyrocket yet again. She had no idea what kind of effect she had on him, on his body, on his life in general. But he knew telling her would violate that line he'd drawn over a year ago when Cam had nearly died due to his urgent need for information. No, he couldn't do that to Brennan. What they had right now was perfect. It was no use trying to make more out of it, even if he wanted to oh so badly.

As his hand inched its way up along her thigh with gentle pressure, she could feel her own body respond in ways she'd never expected. Her heart beat just a little faster the higher up her leg it traveled. It was a response she reserved only for lovers, and Booth was by no means one of them. What they had was a great friendship and an even greater partnership. Besides, her feelings for him were largely plutonic, although every once in a while her mind would indulge in a little fantasy starring him. This wasn't the time to be thinking about that, not when he reached the spot near her hip just below the joint.

Brennan was immediately knocked out of her musings when she felt that lightening bolt of pain shoot through her body making her nearly cry out in response. His hand instantly pulled back. "I'm sorry," he quickly apologized.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she answered, "Its okay," and gave him a weak smile.

"Come on," he said, sliding his arms beneath her knees and the back of her head, "let's get you up." In response, she wrapped an arm around his shoulder to keep herself from falling, and he began to lift. The pain was unexpected as it shot through her and made her scream in agony. She soon found herself sprawled out on the floor again, his body hovering above hers with that concerned look on his face. "Maybe that's not such a good idea," he added, sitting back on his heels.

For a few moments she lay there trying to come up with a way to solve the pain problem when it hit her. "I think if you wrap it, it might not be as painful," she suggested, using her knowledge of the past few hours as her source of inspiration. Whenever she'd put enough pressure around her leg, the pain would diminish significantly. Maybe a wrap would help ease the pain enough so he could lift her back into her bed.

"Where do you keep your bandages?" he asked.

"In the first aid kit under the bathroom sink," she answered. Effortlessly he sprang to his feet and within seconds was rummaging through her bathroom until he found what he was looking for. The metallic click of the latches being opened and quickly closed sounded like heaven to her. It meant relief was on its way and she could finally rest easy. Moments later, he reappeared holding a rolled up Ace bandage.

Kneeling on the floor beside her, he gently began to lift her leg before pausing to ask her, "You said it was your left leg, right?"

"Correct."

With a short nod, he began to lift again until her leg was resting across his thighs. It was then that he started to wrap the bandage tightly around it. She was right; the pain lessened with the added pressure around the injury, but it still hurt like hell. When he finished and placed the small metal clasps at the edges to secure it, he looked up at her and said, "Let's try lifting you again." She nodded and felt his arms beneath her knees and neck.

In response, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her head fell into the crook of his neck as he counted to three then hoisted her up. She dug her fingers into his back as the pain raced through her once more, but it was by no means as debilitating as it had been just moments earlier. "Alright," he said, "we're out of here."

"What?" She lifted her head and looked into his dark eyes for the first time that night. He saw her confusion and the tiny spark of terror that made her forehead crease slightly. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to the hospital, and you're _not_ arguing with me about it," he firmly answered. Her response was predictable; she glared at him. What was unexpected was the fact that she kept her mouth shut and let her head fall back against his shoulder. For a moment he wished that she would say something, anything, because this was very uncharacteristic of the Temperance Brennan he knew, but due to the extenuating circumstances, any quip about the ease at which she gave up her control would only drive her that much farther away from him.

Instead, he opted for the silence that enveloped them as he carried her out of the bedroom and into the living room. It gave them both time to accustom themselves to the situation and get as comfortable as they possibly could because they were now in it for the long haul. No longer was he just badgering her about her wellbeing, he was actually doing something about it. And no longer was she the fiercely independent woman she tried to portray herself as, but the damsel in distress that needed saving.

For Brennan, it was one of the hardest moments in her life. She never liked giving up control. It made her feel helpless, small… delicate. Those were the things she'd spent most of her life trying to avoid. But this was an inevitability, be it today or twenty years from now. She still had to deal with the ramifications and repercussions.

"I need my purse." That's all she said once they reached the front door. The little brown leather satchel lay propped up against the wall on the table beside it, and she reached over, putting it in her lap. With that, they were headed downstairs to his waiting car.

It was a struggle getting her into the passenger's seat comfortably. After several attempts and seat adjustments, she was finally comfortable with the seat back down laying on her right side with her knee bent up to her chest. He quickly got into the driver's seat and turned on the car. No lights and sirens this time he realized when they hit the parking lot speed bump and she groaned, her arm draping over her eyes so he wouldn't see the tears spill down her cheeks. But he had seen them, and reached over to take her free hand, squeezing it gently in reassurance. She laced her fingers around his and held tight as he drove one handed for the next few miles, taking it slow and easy trying to avoid any unnecessary bumps or jolts.

Twenty minutes later the pair arrived at the DC General emergency room. It took several more minutes to get her out of the car and into his arms, but at least she didn't feel the need to scream as he lifted her out of the seat. With her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, they entered through the sliding glass doors and walked straight up to the check in desk.

"Can I help you?" the head nurse on call asked as she gazed up from her chair at the couple.

"Hey, Bones, could you grab my ID out of my left pocket?" he whispered in her ear. She gave him a look of puzzlement, but did what he asked. Her right hand slid from his neck down the length of his torso until it reached the pocket of his sweats. The feel of her hand running down his body nearly overloaded his senses, and he almost regretted having told her to do that. Pushing aside his keys and cell phone, she found the leather holder and pulled it out, handing it over without a word, and not a moment too soon. He didn't feel like explaining to her why he'd accidentally dropped her had she reached a little father south. Thank God his sweats were on the baggy side, hiding any indication of just how weird this situation had become.

Flipping it open, he told the nurse, "Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI." It's all he needed to say before getting rushed behind the swinging metal doors and ushered into the almost empty ER where there was a bed waiting at the end of the large oval room. Ever so delicately he laid his partner down on the stiff mattress, smoothing out her hair as the hospital staff rushed in.

Before he knew it, Booth was being pushed aside so the nurses could take her vitals and any pertinent information for the doctor when he came in to see her. "I'm sorry, sir, but you need to step out for a few minutes while we get her comfortable," one of the nurses took him by the arm and led him back towards the waiting room as another closed the curtain.

"Booth!" he could hear Brennan's panicked cry to him, but he was powerless to do anything as the swinging metal close and clicked shut.


	5. Chapter 4

_AN: We won't talk about what happened with the neurosurgeon this afternoon, because I REFUSE to start crying again, so I'll just get on to the story and let you enjoy it without me having to mention all the bad things that we talked about.  
_

_I would like to thank my beta, **wrthy2bluvd **for all her help. She's kept me on track with wonderful suggestions and great advice. Thanks a lot, chica!  
_

**_PSA: Paris and Allegra give you many thanks for all your wonderful comments and well wishes! And are sending much love to the watchers as well! Thanks so much! -DK  
_**

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**Chapter 4**

Alone without her partner to keep her company, Brennan felt slightly lost and scared as the nurses busied themselves around her checking her blood pressure and temperature. She wrapped her arms around her chest and held herself tight. The only thing worse than losing control was losing control while at the hospital. She was forced to listen to the directions of the nurses around her, and right now they were telling her she needed to change into a hospital gown. So long dignity…

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" one of the younger nurses that stood beside her asked as she wrote a few notes down on her clipboard. She had long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and sharp brown eyes accented with black liner and just a dusting of pink eye shadow.

Brennan didn't like where this was going, especially as she was being helped out of her t-shirt and shorts, the hospital gown being placed over her shoulders for her to slip on as the nurse continued to take her notes and glance at her every few moments. "No, I don't think so," she quietly replied a few seconds later when the gown was finally wrapped tightly around her body and a sheet was rolled up to her chin.

"I swear, you look familiar," she continued, her high pitched Southern accent making Brennan almost cringe. "Jenny, doesn't she look familiar?" She turned to the nurse beside her, an older woman with short cropped brown hair and navy eyes.

Jenny turned and glanced at her patient. "Haven't I seen you on TV?" she asked, furrowing her brows. "No, wait a minute; I've seen you in the paper! You're that forensic doctor, the one that works for the FBI!" There seemed to be triumph in her voice.

Brennan's dread escalated as her head fell into her hand and she took a deep breath. This was _not_ what she wanted to deal with right now. Couldn't these women just shut up and do their jobs? Her pain was beyond the point where she could stand it, and now she had to deal with water cooler gossip-mongers. "Yes, Dr. Temperance Brennan," she finally said, looking between the two with blazing blue eyes hoping they'd get the hint. She just wanted to get this part of her life over with and go home.

"Oh, my God!" the blonde screeched, sending a piercing pain through Brennan's skull. As if the pain in her leg wasn't already enough. "We've never had a celebrity in here before!" Now they thought of her as some famous person. Great, what next? "Can I have your autograph?" _Fuck_… She was going to **_kill_** Booth once this was over. How dare he leave her to fend for herself when he knew damn well she wasn't prepared for this kind of thing at the moment?

A sheet of paper was thrust towards her and Brennan had no choice but to sign it. If it would get the blonde to shut up and do her job, might as well. She didn't think the rest of the ER staff would follow her lead until they were clamored around her. Her saving grace came in the form of a tall, leggy brown eyed, auburn haired woman in a white lab coat wearing a short black pencil skirt, black pumps, and a gray v-neck sweater that showed off a good bit of cleavage. Had Booth been there, he probably would have drooled, Brennan thought snidely.

"Alright, everyone, step away from my patient," she yelled above the noisy crowd, her hands on her hips and a stern look permeating her pretty features. The throng of medical staff quickly dissipated, leaving the two women alone. She pulled closed the curtains and turned to her patient. "Dr. Brennan, I'm Dr. Eva Cooper." In a polite gesture, she held out her hand and they shook.

"Nice to meet you," Brennan murmured, weary of the other doctor.

"So, what happened?" At least she was blunt.

Relieved, Brennan answered, "In the apprehension of a suspect, I had to kick the gun out of the man's hand, and when I did so, I felt a sharp pain along my semitendinosus. It happened two days ago, but it wasn't until this evening that the pain became debilitating."

"So in other words, you think you tore your hamstring?" the doctor replied in laymen's terms.

"Maybe, I can't say for sure though."

"And you've tried ibuprofen?"

"It hasn't helped."

"Did you try anything else?"

Brennan thought for a moment. "Heat."

Dr. Cooper shook her head and sighed, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Of all people, you should know, Dr. Brennan, heat only makes the pain worse. You should have iced it," she playfully scolded.

"I'm sorry, but it's been a fairly long time since I've torn a muscle," Brennan defensively replied, not realizing that she was only joking around.

"Wow, the rumors are true… You're very literal," the doctor said prompting Brennan to cock her head and stare at her a bit puzzled. But they didn't stay on that topic very long. Dr. Cooper was already starting the exam by placing her hand against her patient's foot. "I want you to press against my palm as hard as you can," she instructed. That wasn't a problem for Brennan. It's what she was instructed to do next that sent her back into the ninth circle of hell. "Okay, now I want you to lift you leg." Unconsciously biting her lower lip, she glanced up at her. The dread that crossed her face told the doctor everything. "How about I help you?" She took hold of Brennan's leg and gently began to lift. About four inches off the bed and the pain began searing through her muscle.

"Ow! Stop! Stop! Stop!" she practically begged, fisting the sheets with a white knuckled grip.

Dr. Cooper frowned. "Alright, then," she said, slowly placing the leg back on the bed, "I'm sending you up for x-rays and an MRI just to make sure you haven't broken anything. I'll also have a nurse come in to give you some morphine for the pain." Brennan gave her a grateful look before the woman stepped behind the curtain and disappeared to finish the rest of her rounds.

Just as promised, a nurse soon came in holding a syringe, a glass of water and a small plastic cup with a pill in it. "I know what the syringe is, but what's the pill?" Brennan questioned as it was placed in the palm of her hand.

"Diazepam; it should make your more comfortable along with the morphine," the nurse replied with a soft smile. She was one of the women who'd stood back from the crowd, doing her job instead of partaking in the mob that surrounded her earlier.

"Thank you," Brennan replied as she popped the pill and swallowed it down with the water while the nurse stuck the needle in her bare arm. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she snuggled against the pillow, the medications taking effect almost immediately. She was soon on cloud nine, higher than a kite and happier than a kid on Christmas morning. There was nothing in the world that could have felt better than this. The pain diminished to almost nothing as she laid there, her eyes drooping with sleep.

Before she knew it, she felt her bed being rolled out of her cubicle and down the hall towards the x-ray room.

* * *

Out in the waiting room, Booth paced the length of the hall, the worry having become clear on his face to anyone and everyone that passed him. His shoulders slumped forward as he waited for a nurse to update him on his partner's condition. When no one came, he resorted to bugging the women at the nurse's station, but they remained mum. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he walked outside and scrolled through his phone book looking for a specific number. When he found it, he hit the send key and waited for an answer.

"Do you know what ungodly hour of the morning it is?" Angela rasped angrily from the other end.

"Uh… no," he replied, feeling a bit taken aback by her response.

"Seriously, Booth, what time is it?"

"It's… uh…" he pulled the phone away from his ear and checked the time, "four-o-two."

He heard her grumble before she said, "What the hell do you want? And it better not be a new case or I'll kick your ass."

"It's Bones…" He didn't need to say anymore before she connected the dots.

"What happened? What's wrong? Is she alright?" her friend's rapid fire questions let him know just how concerned she really was. "I know she called me around one. I couldn't pick up, and I tried to call her back, but I got her voicemail."

"Yeah, we're at the DC General emergency room," he answered slowly, hoping not to alarm her anymore than she already was. His suspicions that Brennan had called him last were now confirmed. The sheer fact that Angela had tried to call back alerted him that he needed to tread softly or she might go into hysterics. Still, she needed to know what was going on before she found out from a source other than him. "She called me and, uh, she didn't sound so good, so I rushed over and found her on the floor by her bed. She… she couldn't get up. She was in so much pain."

"Oh, God…" Angela whispered. He could hear her muffled sob even though she tried to cup the mouthpiece of the phone. 'Oh, no,' he thought to himself, instantly regretting he'd even called her. "Oh, God… I can't believe I didn't pick up the phone… I can't believe I just left her to lie there like that…"

"Angela, it's not your fault," he tried to reassure her, to calm her down, but it sounded like she was still crying over the phone, albeit holding back to keep him from hearing her. "You couldn't have known. Hell, I didn't even know. It's just that her phone died while we were talking and I kinda freaked out."

"Is she okay?" she sniffled.

"She's getting checked out right now. I'm still waiting for the nurse to come back and tell me what's going on."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Angela, you don't have to…"

"No, Booth, I do. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." She didn't allow him time to argue and hung up.

Booth sighed deeply, putting the phone back into his pocket before returning to the waiting area. Although he thought it hadn't been a good idea to call Angela, he felt a lot more at ease to hear she would be there soon. He didn't think he could handle being alone anymore, and just having a friend there was enough to quell his ever increasing guilt. As he walked back through the sliding glass doors, his eyes caught sight of his partner being wheeled down the hall. He had to run to catch up, but was soon at her side. She appeared to be at ease for the first time that night, her eyes closed in peaceful sleep.

"Sir, you need to move out of the way," said the young pasty skinned orderly as he continued to push his way down the hall. He looked to be about twenty with close cropped black hair wearing light blue scrubs that looked to be two sizes too big.

Pulling out his badge, Booth replied, "FBI, where are you taking her?" If this was the only way to get an answer, then by God he was going to pull out his badge every time he needed information.

The kid stopped in his tracks seeing the stern look on the older man's face and stared at him for several moments before deciding it was best to answer the question. "To x-ray," he practically croaked, "doctor's orders."

"Alright, just give me a minute with her," Booth said as he leaned over the bed and looked down at his partner. "Bones…" he whispered, his hand gently brushing away a few errant strands of her hair away from her face before lingering on her cheek. She didn't move, but moaned softly as her eyes remained closed. His chest tightened. There was no way he wanted to risk waking her so he pulled away adding, "If you need me, I'll be right here." He stepped back and motioned the orderly to continue with his duties.

Booth returned to the waiting room and sat down in one of the uncomfortably old gray vinyl chairs. At the moment, he was at a loss as to what to do until he was allowed to see his partner again. Although he was satisfied with the care she was receiving, his guilt continued to eat away at him. He should have taken her to the hospital two days ago when the injury first occurred, not let it fester to the point where she couldn't move. No, he shouldn't have even put her in this position in the first place. There had to be a way to filter out her argumentative tone when they were chasing after a suspect, yet whenever he tried, he always seemed to get pulled into a fight. But that's what he loved about her. That's how she kept him on his toes. Not arguing with her was a death sentence. Her fiery spirit was what made him want to continue doing this job, and if that ever went away, he didn't know what he'd do.

In the midst of his musings, he didn't see the couple that walked right up to him or the hand that was gently placed on his shoulder. He felt it though, and nearly jumped out of his seat. Glancing up sharply, he found the soft features of the feisty artist he'd grown particularly fond of; beside her stood her sometimes annoying curly haired fiancé. Both looked as if they'd just stepped out of bed and forgotten to change.

"How is she?" Angela asked, sitting down beside him. She was in a pair of baggy black sweats and an old light pink tank top beneath a dull orange sweater. Hair stuck out of the messy pony tail she'd tied at the back of her head and her makeup was non existent. It was the first time he'd seen her so disorganized. She was always well put together, hair in place and makeup painted on with careful precision.

"Asleep, the last time I saw her. She was headed for x-rays," Booth replied before rubbing a hand over his face. He was exhausted and it showed. The worry and dread had really gotten to him, and this was the first time since Brennan's phone call he'd really gotten to sit down and think about the events that lead up to this particular juncture.

"I'm sorry…" Angela barely whispered. It seemed like she said it more to herself than to him, but still wrapped an arm around his shoulders for a small hug.

"It's not your fault," he said, hugging back. "Besides, this is Bones we're talking about. She's one tough cookie. She'll be fine." They were both trying to convince each other that their worry was unjustified, but it didn't seem to be working.

"I know, but I still can't help thinking that I could have helped her had I answered the phone when she called…" The guilt was present in her voice as she looked down at her lap and started to play with a strand of yarn that had come undone from her sweater. She felt an arm wrap around her from her left and looked to find her fiancé's tired sapphire eyes staring back at her.

"You heard Booth," Jack Hodgins tried to comfort her as he rubbed small circles across her back; "it wasn't your fault. What would you have done? What _could_ you have done?"

"I could have called 911; I could have helped her get to the ER… I don't know." She sounded about ready to cry. "She's my best friend and I wasn't there for her."

"Aw, Baby…" He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close for a comforting embrace. She took momentary solace in his pale green fleece sweater, her arms encircling his waist as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder. "This is Dr. Brennan; she's about as stubborn as they come. She probably would have wanted you to help her back to bed or something. I'm kinda glad Booth got there first. I doubt she would have listened to either one of us."

"I practically had to drag her here," Booth piped in, helping to ease Angela's mind. "She wasn't too happy about going to the hospital."

Without leaving the comfort of her fiancé's arms, she sighed and said, "You're right… I hope."

For the next half hour, the trio remained silent, wallowing in their thoughts and musings before a doctor finally stepped out of the emergency room doors and headed towards them. The auburn haired beauty was a sight for sore eyes. Booth couldn't tear himself away from her as she glanced around the waiting room and asked, "Friends and family of Temperance Brennan?" Blinking several moments, he forgot how to form words before Angela promptly saved him from making a complete ass out of himself.

"That would be us," she answered, raising a hand so the doctor could see where they sat.

"Could you come with me please?" the doctor replied as she held out a hand gesturing them towards a door at the far end of the waiting room.

They glanced at one another, slightly alarmed, but quickly stood and followed her. She led them down a quiet corridor lined with several rooms on either side. "I'm Dr. Cooper," she softly introduced herself as they continued to walk towards the very end of the hall.

"How's Brennan?" Angela immediately asked, not in the mood to wait for answers at the moment. She'd been through the ringer tonight so her tolerance for bullshit was pretty low.

"Her x-rays showed no damage to the bone, but her MRI showed she had significant bruising and tearing to the trio of muscles that make up her hamstring. It sounds pretty bad, and although it's quite painful, with physical therapy she'll be as good as new in a couple of months," the doctor explained. "I'll write her a script for Norco and a stronger form of ibuprofen called diclofenac. That should help reduce the pain and swelling and keep her comfortable until she starts therapy."

"That's a relief," Angela replied with a deep sigh. "Will she be okay to go home soon?"

"I'll draw up the release forms as soon as I bring you to her room. We had to give Dr. Brennan a private room because there was a multi car pile up on 95, so we needed all the space we could get in the ER," Dr. Cooper said. They stopped in front of the room marked 1176 and she motioned with her hand that it was Brennan's room. "Someone will have to stay with her for a little while. I'm recommending a week of bed rest until she sees her primary care physician and an orthopedic specialist about therapy. They'll let you know if she'll require anymore time off her feet and just how long she'll need to be home from work."

"Bones is _not_ gonna like that," Booth finally said from behind them.

"Might as well be a death sentence," Jack added.

"Enough from the peanut gallery," Angela snapped as she glared back at the two of them. They both stopped in their tracks and shut up as they stared at her in disbelief. She was being uncharacteristically snappy, and they both chocked it up to her guilt. Instead of angering her more, they did as she asked and found a spot against the wall where they wouldn't be distracting. She turned to Dr. Cooper and thanked her before she scurried back to the ER.

Glancing at the two men still perched against the wall, Angela walked towards the large wooden door and pushed it open. The room was dark and quiet, the blinds open to the soft glow of the moon. She found her friend lying in the hospital bed dozing silently beneath the thin white sheets. It took her several moments to gather up enough strength to walk the ten or so feet to the chair beside the bed and sit down. But when she was seated, she reached over and took Brennan's hand. It felt warm and alive, and Angela immediately let out of sigh of relief.

"Hey, Sweetie," she whispered. There was no response from the bed, only the slow, rhythmic breaths her friend took in her sleep. "I'm here, just so you know, and I'll still be here when you wake up, okay?"

Angela nearly broke out into tears, unable to figure out why she found this to be so hard for her to deal with. She realized it probably had to do with the fact that there hadn't been many times where Brennan had called her in the middle of the night asking for help. Come to think of it, there weren't any at all. Yes, she'd gotten plenty of phone calls from her in the middle of the night because she was working late at the lab and needed her to come in for a little while to do a reconstruction, but this time, she should have realized something was wrong. Seeing the way Brennan favored her right leg, something should have clicked when that call came. Instead, she'd ignored it the first, second, and third time, finding sleep to be much more worth her while.

It wasn't until about an hour later, when sleep became almost impossible to attain, that Angela had tried to call her back and gotten her voicemail. That didn't faze her; in fact, she felt relieved. Maybe whatever it was Brennan wanted she'd figured out herself. But then came Booth's call, and everything just fell apart. There was no escaping the guilt that followed. She regretted not picking up that first time more than she regretted anything else in her life. How could she let her friend down like that? She didn't even deserve to be called her friend after this.

"I'm sorry," Angela whispered as she bit back a sob and stood up unable to sit there and stare at her friend in the hospital bed. She walked out into the hall with her hand covering her eyes, but quickly found herself wrapped in the loving arms of her fiancé where she let loose the torrent of tears she'd been holding back.

"Is she gonna be alright?" Booth asked. He felt for the woman. Even he found himself close to tears for neglecting his partner the way he had, but he refused to let them get to him. Instead, he focused his energy making sure Angela was okay.

"She'll be fine," Jack whispered back before placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

Booth nodded. "I'm gonna…" he pointed to the door and walked into the room as Jack shooed him towards it.

Occupying the chair that Angela had sat in earlier, he looked over at his partner sleeping soundly. No matter how guilty he felt, he was still relieved to see her looking so peaceful. She had the most placid look on her face, as if all her cares and worries were set aside as she slept. There was even the hint of a smile on her lips. Ever so gently, he reached over and brushed a few errant strands of hair away from her face, and she sighed deeply before opening those steel blue eyes he found so mesmerizing.


	6. Chapter 5

_AN: Insanity is what you make of it. And at the moment, my insanity involves nothing but WORK! Which is probably why it's taking me so damn long to post! Arg! I HATE being the ONLY designer on staff sometimes. It BLOWS! Cuz not only do I have to do MY job, but I also seem to have to do everybody else's as well! ARG! I NEED A VACATION! As for last post's freak out session... Fucking doctors... They're concerned about nothing but their BOTTOM LINE!! Fucker tried to scare me into having back surgery! Now, two weeks later, the pain is almost non existent and I'm walking about like it never happened. I have a herniated disc, btw. If you wanna hear more, I've got several posts on my livejournal about it. You can find the link on my profile page. Once you get there, just scroll down... I've been randomly posting crap these past few days, lol.  
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_Special thanks to my beta, **wrthy2bluvd **for all her help. She's the kick in the pants I need when I don't seem to have the drive to write my story. Thanks, hon!  
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**_PSA: Paris and Allegra love you!! Please send them some love too! Reviews are greatly appreciated, as are faves and watches. You guys are AWESOME! Thanks from the bottom of my heart to those of you who I don't even know, but are willing to lend an ear. You guys are truly spectacular. -DK  
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**Chapter 5**

"Oh, god…" Brennan groaned as she lifted her hand to her face, somehow finding the energy through the fog of painkillers. Thinking back on it now, she knew what had happened, and it made her feel even worse that she'd allowed her partner to see it all. "Please tell me this has nothing to do with my hamstring." She gazed up at him, her eyes pleading, hoping for the first time in her life that her mind was playing tricks on her and she'd really gotten shot instead of pulled a muscle.

"It has everything to do with your hamstring," he answered.

Another deep sigh, another long moment of silence; her face remained covered by her hand as she peeked out from beneath her fingers to find him gazing back at her softly. She pulled it away, afraid to ask her next question. "What did the doctor say?" Her voice came out low, weak.

It was Booth's turn to sigh. His fingers tightened around her hand as he replied, "Your MRI showed you had significant swelling and tearing, and although it'll be pretty painful for a while, you should be fine after a few months of therapy." A sigh of relief escaped her lungs as a tiny smile appeared on her lips. As much as he wanted to keep that smile on her face, what he said next would surly make her heart sink. "That's not all…" She looked up at him sharply, her eyes shaded with fear. "Since you're in pretty bad shape right now, you'll need someone to take care of you until you're able to get around on your own."

The color drained from her face and her gaze dropped to their still intertwined hands. Her grip loosened to the point where her fingers slipped out of his grasp and into her lap. She didn't want to be anywhere near him right now, afraid of what he'd say. That conversation she'd had with him the previous day was coming back to haunt her. It was almost as bad as admitting defeat, but in this case, she had no choice. The doctor had decided her fate, and there was no way of getting around it. She hated feeling so helpless and out of control that tears welled up in her eyes as her head turned away from her partner in hopes that he wouldn't see her cry. She half expected him to say "I told you so!" but he made no movements at all.

"Bones…" he whispered, his fingers curling under her chin trying to get her to look at him. She refused and pulled away roughly, her eyes closing as she tried to fight her tears. It didn't work; one found its way past her defenses and slid down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb, gently brushing it away.

"Temperance," he said, his voice strong and resilient against her undying will. His hand cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. Those glassy eyes made his chest tighten. He hated seeing her cry. It felt like someone stuck a hot dagger into his heart every time he saw pain in those beautiful blue eyes. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to be able to stop them before they ever started, but in this case, and knowing her the way he did, it was simply impossible. Her independence meant everything to her. Having it taken away even for a little while was like a death sentence in her mind.

Gently stroking her chin with his thumb, he continued, "I know it'll be hard, but it's only for a little while. As soon as you can get back on your feet, you'll be on your own again. But, please, let us help you. It's only a couple of weeks. They'll go by so fast you won't even know it."

His smile gently pulled her out of her misery. She sniffled, her eyes focused on the edge of her sheet, but managed to reply, "You promise you won't treat me like a baby?" Ever so slowly they settled on his face as she waited for his response.

"I promise," he solemnly answered. She believed him. The corners of her lips turned up slightly for a weak smile. He smiled back and wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug. It seemed for a moment like the world stood still. Everything was quiet, peaceful. She felt… loved? No, too strong. Care for… Yeah, that sounded about right. The comfort she found in his embrace calmed her to the point where she was finally able to relax without needing medication. His hands filtered through the tangled strands of her hair and she was instantly transported to the last time they'd hugged like this. She sighed softly, her head falling into the crook of his neck as he tightened his arms around her. His lips pressed against her temple and suddenly she felt the urge to pull him in for a kiss. Jeez, what drugs was she _on_? This was incredibly irrational thinking for her.

She pulled away, putting as much distance between them as she could without seeming awkward. Thankfully the creaky door saved her from having to say anything. The tall, lanky figure of her doctor stepped through the harsh hallway lights and strode up to her bed. "Good morning, Dr. Brennan," she said, a smile present on her pretty pink lips.

"Mph… Morning," murmured her patient as she hugged the sheet to her chest.

The long legged doctor glanced over at Booth, she added, "I saw you in the hall earlier, but I don't think we met." She extended her hand. "I'm Dr. Eva Cooper." Words seem to fail him again as he stood up, nearly knocking the chair over as he shook her hand.

"Oh, um… Sorry… I'm, uh… Booth," he stuttered, catching Brennan's attention. She watched the interaction with great interest, almost feeling jealous that the woman had so much power over men, over her man… 'Where the hell did that come from?' she asked herself. Her partner wasn't her "man" in any sense of the word, aside from being her friend. Okay, no more drugs. She could do without them if they had her thinking like this.

Dr. Cooper gave him a sweet smile and replied, "Nice to meet you." But before long, her gaze fell to her patient. "Well, Dr. Brennan, I've got good news and I've got bad news."

"Torn hamstring, no broken bones," Brennan replied flatly. "I've already been told."

"Alright," Dr. Cooper said, looking a bit shocked, but not surprised, "it looks like you can head home then. I just need you to sign these release forms before you can change back into your clothes."

"I'll go get Angela to come help you," Booth said as he stepped away from the bed.

"What?" Brennan grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Angela's here? Why?"

"Because…" He couldn't come up with a good excuse in such a pinch and said, "She's you're friend. I thought she'd like to know what was going on before it became gossip."

"Booth!" There was that tone again. Before she could even begin to argue with him, he was already out the door, shutting it behind him as she sat fuming on the bed.

"Your boyfriend?" Dr. Cooper asked, slightly amused.

"No," Brennan retorted, glaring at her from the corner of her eye, "my partner." She snatched the pen and papers out of the doctor's hand, scribbled her name on the forms, and shoved them back at her. "I can leave now, correct?" she asked, slowly lifting herself off the bed and swinging her legs over the side in hopes of finding her clothes before anyone had to help her.

"Whoa, hold your horses, missy," Dr. Cooper was almost instantly at her side placing an arm around her waist to keep her seated on the bed.

"She's a handful, isn't she?" came another female voice from the door. Both doctors looked up to see Angela grinning in their direction. When Booth had come out to tell her Brennan was awake, she jumped at the chance to see her friend, but what she found behind the door was almost exactly what she'd expected. Even though she was injured and possibly incapacitated, Brennan continued to fight. The scene was quite comical with Dr. Cooper trying to hold her back as she struggled to stand up. "Jeez, Bren, you need to take a chill pill and let the woman do her job. I'm not bringing you back here if you tear your other hamstring."

It had taken her a while to calm down, but now that she finally saw her friend up, awake, and feisty as ever, Angela was beginning to feel much better. Although she still felt awful for leaving her to fend for herself, it was a relief to see Brennan acting like her old self; all big and tough when in reality she was in a hell of a lot of pain. If she could call her friend one thing it would be resilient.

"Ange…" Brennan retorted as she gave her friend that deadpan expression that said so much. "I'm fine. I can do this myself." Again she tried to stand up off the bed but immediately fell back when the pain shot through her leg, a squeak of surprise and anger escaping her lips.

"Or not," Angela observed as she quickly moved to stand beside her friend. Her arm wrapped around Brennan's waist and together they sat with Angela being her support. "Do me a favor, Bren. Stay put for just five minutes so we can get you dressed then you can start squirming again." That was Dr. Cooper's cue to leave the room, giving them the privacy they needed

Brennan gave her friend a defeated sigh. Her arms dropped to her sides and her shoulders slumped forward as she waited for Angela to search through the cabinets for her t-shirt, shorts, and purse. When she found her belongings, she set them on the bed beside her. Brennan stared at the pile of fabric. It was depressing and borderline shameful sitting there unable to put her own clothes on, but there she was, at the mercy of whoever happened to be in her vicinity. She never wanted to put anyone in that position, especially her friends. No matter how many times they told her they'd be there for her, she hated to burden them.

"Sweetie?" Angela asked as she sat down on the bed next to the clothes. She saw the light fading in Brennan's eyes, the strong steel blue turning almost ashen. It broke her heart to see her friend like this. She wanted to pull her out of the depression, wanted to make her see that she wasn't a hindrance to anyone, that they all truly wanted to help her, but the type of woman Brennan was didn't allow for that kind of emotional support, found it unnerving in fact. Where Angela thrived on emotional connections, Brennan was socially inept to handle them, which forced her to drive herself away from people instead of towards them in situations like these.

"Sweetie?" she asked again when she noticed Brennan hadn't heard her the first time. Her head bobbed up, her eyes blank and glassy. Angela placed a hand on her arm and gently rubbed, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of her. But Brennan was way far out in left field and nearing the warning track. If someone didn't pull her out of this fast, she was going to hit the wall, and hit it hard.

"Did someone steal your shoes?" Angela added.

Brennan shook her head. "No, I wasn't wearing any when we left," she replied, her voice flat and weak. She started to tug on the hospital gown. "Could I have my shirt?" Angela handed it over to her. Maybe if Brennan did a few things by herself she'd get out of this funk. Watching with eyes like a hawk, Angela analyzed every move her friend made from the way she set the hospital gown on the bed to the way she pulled the shirt over her head. Slowly but surly, she was making a comeback, until it came to putting on her shorts.

Lifting her right leg, she managed to get one side on by herself, but when she tried to lift her left leg into the other, the painfully frustrated growl she let out nearly startled Angela. "You want some help?" she asked as she stood up.

"No," Brennan snapped through gritted teeth. She rolled onto her back and tried to get them on that way, but it didn't work either. Leaning on her right side, her next attempt got her the closest thus far as she curled her leg to her chest. It was the lift that sent her spiraling into oblivion. She cried out this time, angry, frustrated, defeated. When she looked up, Angela could see the emptiness returning to her eyes.

"I have an idea," she said. "Why don't I help you slip them onto your left leg and you can do the rest?" Brennan only nodded, her eyes remaining distant as her friend took the garment and did as she suggested. Together, they finally put the shorts on, leaving Brennan to sit on the bed as Angela stood in front of her.

"You ready?" she asked, sitting down beside her friend and wrapping an arm around her waist. Brennan nodded, and together they started to stand. With Angela as her support beam, she managed to hoist herself up without putting any unnecessary pressure on her left leg. They limped their way to the door, and with Brennan leaning heavily against her, Angela opened it, the bright lights of the hallway blinding them both.

Brennan tried to shield her eyes with her hand, but letting go sent her crashing back into a world of pain as her left foot hit the ground and she wavered off balance before feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around her middle holding her upright. Glancing up, she found Booth at her side, and behind him, Jack looking on with concern.

"You got her, man?" he asked.

"Yeah, I got her," Booth assured him as he readjusted Brennan in his arms so she was now facing him. "You ready to go home, Bones?" he added once she was wrapped around him holding on for dear life.

"Take me home," she weakly replied, burying her face in his shoulder. In one swift motion he scooped her up into his arms, her head nestling into the crook of his neck as they walked down the hall and out of the hospital.


	7. Chapter 6

_AN: Work is NUUUUUTS!! Okay, so we got this new sales dude, and he's just brought in the business like I've NEVER seen before! Holy moley, I'm about to lose my freaking MIND! There's so much stuff on my desk, I can't remember what it looks like anymore! Soooo sorry that this chapter is so short. I'm trying to write in between the insanity and the constant bar hopping that my sister and I seem to be doing. Next chapter, I promise, will be a LOT long and definitely squee worthy. If not, you can kick my ass. I promise.  
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_Special thanks to my beta, **wrthy2bluvd **for all her help. She's been incredibly helpful lately, giving me great ideas and looking over the story to make sure I'm not running around in circles, so thank you very much!  
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**_PSA: Show Paris and Allegra some love! They love you too! And they need a little encouragement to keep going. Anything is good, review, fave, watch, PM, a hit. I thank you in advance from the bottom of my heart! You guys are some of the best I've met. Have an awesome week! -DK  
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**Chapter 6**

The apartment was cool and quiet when Booth pushed the door open, the fragile woman in his arms softly dozing due to a combination of exhaustion and medications. They'd stopped off at the pharmacy to pick up her prescriptions and she'd taken them on the drive back to her place. Within minutes she was out like a light paying no mind to the sun rising in the east.

The clock on the wall read 5:58AM. Booth had to stifle a yawn as he plodded to the bedroom for the second time that morning, only now he was a bit more relaxed and relieved that nobody had hurt his partner. Instead, she was curled up in his arms sleeping soundly, something he hoped to do soon. The bed was just as she'd left it, the sheets thrown to the left side in a rumpled mass. He eased her onto the soft mattress and pulled the covers over her body making sure to tuck in the corners to keep her warm. Unable to resist, he placed a soft, feather light kiss on her forehead before whispering, "Sweet dreams, Bones."

He stood there for several minutes just staring at her as she slept. Her right hand had curled under her cheek while her left found its way beneath the pillow, propping up her body slightly. Tiny slivers of light shown through the blinds, illuminating her hair. There were so many things about her that he could memorize as he stood there, but a knock at the front door tore his attention away from his partner. He made his way back into the living room and peeked through the peephole before pulling it open.

"Since we still haven't decided who's going to look after her, I thought we'd stop by and have a little chat," Angela said as she stepped into the apartment with Jack following closely behind her. She walked right past Booth and plopped herself down on the couch.

"Okay," Booth replied, feeling a bit blindsided. He thought it was pretty obvious he needed to take care of her since he was the one who found her, but Angela had other ideas.

"Brennan needs someone who can understand what she's been through and what she's going through," she started.

"And you think I don't." It wasn't a question. Booth stood at the door, staring at her, his eyes dark and clouded. She wasn't able to read his expression, but judging by the tension throughout the rest of the body, she figured he was about to get defensive.

"I know you're well qualified," Angela replied, trying to diffuse the situation, but he had already folded his arms over his chest. That was never a good sign, and dealing with a moody FBI agent wasn't something she wanted to do this early in the morning, especially after having been awake all night.

"Of course I'm well qualified, I'm her partner," he countered almost immediately.

"I'm not challenging you on that."

"It sure sounds like you are."

"Jeez, Booth, will you shut up and listen?" Angela had finally gotten fed up with his interruptions and went straight for the sucker punch that shut his mouth long enough for her to finish a thought. "I'm just saying, maybe I should just stay with Brennan. I've been her friend for almost a decade, so I think I know a thing or two about what she's going through and what she needs."

"Well, we spend a lot of time together being partners and all," Booth immediately countered. "We've been through a lot together. She's trusted me with her family and her life on several occasions. This might be a bit different, but I still think it applies. After all, she did call me, and I did pick up." He knew he was playing dirty, bringing up Angela's guilt for not having been there for her friend, but he couldn't help himself. This was an argument he knew he could win. It would only be a matter of time before she crumbled.

"Don't think you can use that against me, Booth," she warned, her brown eyes shining with anger. "Just because you've known her for three years doesn't mean you know her like I do."

"Oh, yeah, how's that?" he challenged, stepping right up to her and invading her personal space.

Jack could see this was getting out of hand and tried to interject, "Why don't you just ask Brennan?" But they both glared at him, immediately making him back off so they could continue on with their little argument. He only hoped that it wouldn't escalate into fists being thrown or the like.

Without skipping a beat, Angela said, "I know that since she's so independent, she has problems accepting help from others, especially when she's sick or injured. And I know that she's very uncomfortable giving up that independence so someone can take care of her." Two could play the guilt game.

He wasn't done yet, not by a long shot. "Don't you have someone who depends on you? What does your fiancé think about this?" He turned and looked at Jack, waiting for him to answer.

"Don't bring him into this!" she shot back before he uttered a word. "You have your own responsibilities! Don't you have Parker?"

"Whoa! Don't bring my son into this either! Besides, I only get him on weekends."

Jack had finally had enough of their bickering and yelled, "Will you two quit it already?" He was getting fed up with their excuses and explanations, especially since the pitch of their voices continued to rise with every point they made to each other. If they kept this up, they'd either have the cops called on them or they'd wake the sleeping doctor in the other room.

"Hey, she started it!" Booth retorted as he pointed to Angela. Jack glared at him, leaving the FBI agent slack jawed and speechless at the venom in the squint's eyes.

"How about a compromise?" Jack suggested. "Angela, you can stay with her this morning and then Booth can stay with her tonight."

They both stared at him for several long, tense moments before Angela sighed and said, "Yeah, I'm alright with that."

He turned to the FBI agent, waiting for his response. "Booth?"

"Alright, fine," he shot back, albeit vehemently. Even thought he wasn't too happy being relegated to second shift, Booth wasn't about to complain. At least he would get a turn. Then again, even if they'd continued to argue, they probably would have come up with the same agreement on their own, only much later, and with the probability of waking the neighbors. And even then they probably would have continued arguing about who went first and who went second. With Jack stepping in to do the hard work, it went a lot smoother with no need to wake the neighbors or their sleeping friend.

Angela smirked and turned for the bedroom. Booth had to restrain himself from reaching out to strangle her, reminding himself that she was Brennan's best friend, after all, and there was no need to cause anymore trouble than had been brewed the last couple of days. Instead, he turned and headed to the couch, plopping himself down and putting his feet up after kicking off his shoes. "Hunker down, Hodgins, it's gonna be a long day," he said, making himself comfortable.

"Don't you have work?" Jack replied.

"I can't work without my partner," Booth reasoned.

"You can do paperwork," came the scientist's snide remark.

"Shut up, Hodgins."


	8. Chapter 7

_AN: I know! I've been gone for too long, but it's just been INSANE lately! We're in the process of moving, which I've learned is a very dangerous thing because I nearly broke my arm a few weeks back and am still experiencing wrist pain because of it. Can't forget to mention that my birthday is this weekend, and that my cousin is coming to town for a few days so we can work on a project together. And then there's work in general, which is just beyond crazy, so I haven't had much time to devote to ANYTHING, let alone writing. Not very happy about that because the muses are just little devils and want nothing more than to continue writing. So, yeah, the insanity factor is pretty high. It really sux. I wish I could get some free time and some inspiration, but its HARD!! Really really sorry for the delay, but, as promised, this chapter is definitely much longer than the last one, and even more squee-worthy! I hope you like it!  
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_Huge thanks to my beta, **wrthy2bluvd **for her constant help and support. I swear, this girl needs an award for her patience with me because she's had to deal with a lot of my shit, lol. Thank you, chica! I owe you so much more than I'm able to give right now.  
_

**_PSA: Paris and Allegra love you! Thanks for all your support on the last chapter even though it was short and dinky. My ratings are thru the roof and it looks like they'll surpass my CSI:NY story upon this post! So I thank you from the bottom of my heart! You guys are totally awesome! -DK  
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**Chapter 7**

The clock on the nightstand blinked 12:36PM as Angela cracked an eye open. She'd slid into bed beside her friend earlier that morning and had fallen asleep on the soft pillows without realizing it. Exhaustion was partly to blame, but it was mostly relief that allowed her to drift off; relief that her friend was okay, even though she'd seen better days. So when she was awoken by a shift in the mattress, she wasn't too happy until the soft, painful groan of her friend alerted her something might be wrong. Her eyes shot open to find Brennan trying to roll onto her side without much luck.

"Booth," she moaned, her eyes remaining closed.

That came as a bit of a surprise to Angela as she laid there, her eyes having gone as round as saucers. Why was she asking for Booth? Oh, boy… Brennan's subconscious was shocking when allowed to roam free under the guise pain medication. Who knows what else might slip out next. As much as she wanted to find out, Angela refrained, realizing that her friend was heavily sedated on some pretty strong drugs. Instead, she replied, "It's me, Sweetie," as softly as she could.

"Where's Booth?" Brennan sounded near panicked as she opened her eyes. That scared look she gave Angela startled her. She'd never seen her friend this frightened before. This was very strange behavior, especially for Brennan. Then it hit her… Booth had been the last person she'd seen that morning before falling asleep. That had to be the reason why she was asking for him, although Angela was almost certain it went much deeper.

"He's probably in the living room." She placed a hand on her shoulder and gently rubbed, trying to calm her friend down. It seemed to work as Brennan let out a deep sigh and buried her face in her pillow. "Is everything okay, Sweetie? How does your leg feel?" Angela continued.

"Mmm… It hurts," Brennan's muffled answer just barely made it to her ears.

"You want your meds?" Angela asked. Brennan simply nodded without raising her head from her pillow prompting her to roll off her side of the bed and head for the kitchen where she'd seen the two bottles of pills on the counter. Passing the living room, she noticed Booth sprawled out on the couch softly snoring and Jack on the easy chair, also asleep. She had to smile at the cuteness of the scene before her even though she wasn't too happy about what she had to do.

Detouring to the couch, she softly placed a hand on Booth's shoulder and shook. He awoke with a start, brown eyes wild and bleary as he glanced up at her slightly confused. "Angela…" He breathed a deep sigh and sat up. "You scared me."

She gave him a half smile. "It's not everyday I get to scare a big, tough FBI agent," she quipped. His glare should have frightened her, but it only served to make her grin widen.

"How's Bones?" he asked, changing the subject.

Angela continued on her path to the kitchen. "She's asking for you" she said over her shoulder as she grabbed a glass out of one of the cabinets. She didn't have to look back to know he was already heading for the bedroom. The soft popping of his joints as he stretched let her know he was up and around, ready for action.

As he padded his way into Brennan's room, Angela grabbed the pill bottles, checking to make sure she was giving her friend the correct drug. Diclofenac... Take one every twelve hours with a meal and a full glass of water. Wrong one. Norco… Take one every four to six hours with a full glass of water. That was the one she was looking for. Proceeding to unscrew the cap, she noticed the warning stickers on the side of the bottle. One in particular made her eyes widen slightly as she read it. Warning: may cause drowsiness, etc. etc. Less common side effects: confusion, fear, unusual thoughts or behavior.

"Huh," Angela said, her brows arching. So this was why Brennan was acting so strange. Well, at least it gave her the ability to feel a little more instead of push things to the back of her mind, Angela thought as she filled the glass with water from the tap.

Heading back to the bedroom, she paused at the door, seeing it was open just enough for her to peek inside and find Booth kneeling on the floor at Brennan's side, his hand enveloping hers as he spoke softly. She looked physically relaxed, more so than she had been when Angela tried to calm her down. That's when she realized maybe it was time to back off and let Booth take care of her friend. It was pretty obvious he had an effect on her that went beyond anyone's comprehension. She was calmer, happier with him around even though she tried to deny it, fighting with anyone who told her otherwise. But in truth, deep down, Temperance Brennan felt more for her partner than she would probably ever admit. Maybe giving them whatever time Brennan was forced to stay off her feet would finally bring out those feelings.

It was an idea Angela got behind one hundred percent. She was grinning like the Cheshire cat as she knocked on the door, making her presence known. Booth immediately stood up, startled by the soft sound and let go of Brennan's hand as he moved back from the bed. Practically sauntering into the room, Angela glanced at him with a knowing smile before making her way to her friend's side. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding out her hand. "Here you go, Sweetie," she said, still unable to wipe the smile off her face as she dropped the Norco into her palm.

Brennan tried to sit up, but the pain prevented her from going farther than about an inch off the bed. Rolling onto her side, she tried again, and even though she was able to sit up a bit higher, it still hurt, prompting her to lie back down. After letting out an exasperated sigh, it looked as if she'd given up until Booth stepped in and wrapped his arm around her back to gently push her forward. She glanced at him, slightly taken aback by his gesture, but didn't say a word as she placed the pill in her mouth and swallowed it with the water Angela held out for her. He eased her back down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over her shoulders and smoothing it out for her.

The smile that had crept onto Angela's lips as she watched the two partners silently interact turned into a full blown grin. All these small gestures were adding up to something she didn't want to interrupt. It was then that she decided she and Jack needed to go home and leave them be. Standing up from the bed, she started to make her way out of the bedroom, but tapped Booth on the shoulder gesturing for him to follow.

Once they were both out of Brennan's range of hearing in the living room, she turned to him and said, "I think it's time Jack and I went home." He looked at her strangely, and she knew why. "It's your turn," she added.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he replied, "It's only a little after noon. The deal was I take care of her this evening. What gives?" They'd practically killed each other that morning over who would sit with Brennan, and now Angela was just stepping down? There had to be something she wanted in return.

"We got off on the wrong foot this morning," Angela answered. "We were tired and grumpy; I'm just trying to be civil. You were there for her last night; I know you'll take care of her."

"Thank you. I know that it isn't easy for you to see her like this. It's hard on all of us really, but you can trust me with her life," he replied.

For several long moments she stood there staring at him. The look she gave him made Booth uneasy, almost doubtful, until a smile crossed her lips and she said, "I already do." He let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding as Angela turned, making her way towards the easy chair. Under her breath, she added, "It's her heart that I'm a little more worried about."

"What?" Booth strained to hear what she said, but couldn't make out the words.

"Nothing!" Angela practically sang as she turned to give him a devilish grin. Her high pitched reply served to awaken her fiancé with a start. Jack practically jumped out of the chair, eyes wide and panting as he glanced around the room a bit dazed and confused. "Come on, Babe, we're going home," she said as she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the chair.

"Huh?" Jack was still pretty out of it, blinking several times to clear the cobwebs from his eyes as he glanced around the room trying to get his bearings. "What time is it?" he asked gruffly.

"Noon" Angela continued to drag him without protest towards the front door, pulling it open as she added, "I'm hungry. Let's go get some lunch."

"Okay…" Too tired and beyond comprehension, Jack followed listlessly as his fiancé navigated him out of Brennan's apartment and down the stairs while Booth looked on, amused.

"He is so whipped," he said with a chuckle under his breath as he closed the door behind them. The room was now silent, except for the growl coming from his stomach. Booth was hungry, but before he decided to order anything, he wanted to check on Brennan and see if she was hungry as well. Crossing the wide open space of the living room, he gently pushed open the door to her bedroom to find her eyes closed, the arm across her chest rising slow and even. She was fast asleep, the drugs having taken effect rather quickly. It didn't surprise him, though. Her exhaustion had been evident earlier that morning, and after the whirlwind of a day they'd had, he was glad to see her finally getting the rest she deserved after such an ordeal.

Backing out of the room but leaving the door open a crack just in case she awoke and needed something, Booth made his way into the living room and sank into the couch. He pulled out his cell phone to make a few calls, the first going to his and Brennan's favorite take out spot. He ordered enough to feed an army, figuring she'd probably be very hungry when she awoke from her drug induced coma. With the food half an hour away, he made his second phone call to Brennan's boss, Dr. Camille Saroyan.

Booth hadn't realized the foul mood she'd been in before his phone call and got the brunt of her anger the moment she picked up. But after calmly telling her why Brennan, Angela, and Jack were MIA, she'd calmed down considerably, even become worried over Brennan's health asking if there was anything she could do to help. He reassured her everything was taken care of and that Brennan would be fine, but off her feet for quite some time. Twenty minutes later, he hung up with her, dreading the next call he needed to make.

Fortunately for Booth, it would be postponed for a little while longer when he heard the doorbell chime. The food had arrived and he quickly rushed down to retrieve it. He was back in a flash, setting the large brown, delicious smelling bags on the dining room table. Just as he was about to peek inside the first one to make sure everything he ordered was there, he heard a muffled cry come from the bedroom. In an instant he was rushing to Brennan's side, hoping she was alright.

"Booth!" she weakly called out to him. His chest tightened. This was much worse than dealing with a phone call. He couldn't stand to see Brennan in such a state of distress. It pained him to watch the once vivacious, feisty anthropologist slip into such a desperate situation. He wanted to help her, wanted to do whatever he could to take the pain away, but it just wasn't enough.

"Hey, Bones, I'm right here," Booth reassured his partner as he stepped through her bedroom door and was at her bed in moments. He kneeled down so they were at eye level. What he saw made his heart break. She dropped her gaze, an obvious struggle going on in her mind as her steel blue eyes flicked around the room. "What is it, Bones?" he asked, slipped his hand into her upturned palm resting at her side on the cool bed sheet.

"I… I…" A tear slid down her cheek. He quickly wiped it away with his free hand, patiently waiting for her to continue. Her eyes finally drifted and settled on his as she meekly added, "I have to go to the bathroom… Is Angela still here?'

Booth shook his head, "She left about half an hour ago."

"Oh." It was barely a whisper. Brennan's head dropped as she pursed her lips. He could see it written on her face. She didn't want to ask him for his help. It was time he took matters into his own hands.

"Come on." Booth slipped his arms beneath her neck and legs, gently lifting her off the bed. Her mouth opened to protest, but he was already at her bathroom door, pushing it open with his shoulder and flipping on the light switch. "Can you do this or…" He didn't need to finish the sentence. Her head was already shaking from side to side, so he lowered her to the floor making sure she had a good grasp of the counter before stepping back and leaving her to do her business.

Just as he was exiting, she said, "Booth…" He turned to see the pained expression on her face. "I'm sorry…"

With a soft smile, he replied, "Don't be. I'm here to help you, no matter what." He turned and shut the door behind him. "If you need anything, I'll be right here," he yelled to her. Leaning against the doorframe, he waited, listening intently to make sure she really would be okay by herself.

Brennan stood where Booth left her, hanging onto the edges of the bathroom counter adjusting to the pain of standing on only her right foot. Even with the heavy sedatives, the pain was by no means better. There was maybe a marginal difference, but it still felt like someone had taken a torch and was burning the back of her leg with it whenever she put the slightest pressure on her left foot. Glancing up at the mirror, she was shocked by just how disheveled she looked. Her hair was a tangled mass at the back of her head, there were crusties at the corners of her eyes, and she seemed almost ten years older from the deep lines of worry that crossed her face. Her exhaustion was palpable.

Booth was trying his best to make her comfortable, and even though she knew it, it still felt like she was a burden to him and anyone else that got involved with her these next few weeks. She just wanted to deal with this alone, as she had for the last fifteen years, but the sheer fact that she couldn't even get out of bed by herself made it an impossibility. The war that raged in her mind was one she'd never had to deal with in her entire life. On one hand, she needed the extra support that her friends provided; on the other was the toll it took on their lives.

What was she going to do, her mind continued to ask over and over as she wiggled her way towards the toilet beside the counter. Ever so slowly, she lowered herself onto the seat, the pain shooting through her like a hot knife. It was a struggle to hold in the groan that threatened to escape her lips, but she managed. After several long moments, it subsided enough to allow her to do her business, and she sighed in relief.

On the other side of the door, Booth listened carefully for any sign of trouble. The tension was clear in his muscles as several long minutes passed and they began to ache from being on edge. He tried to relax, but until he heard her give the all clear, he was ready to spring into action if need be. When the toilet finally flushed and the sound of running water made its way to his ears, he let out a deep sigh and continued to wait.

"Booth," Brennan's weak voice barely made it through the closed door, but he was already swinging it open, ready to help her back to bed. She was somewhat startled by his actions, leaning heavily on the counter as he burst into the room, but quickly recovering as he sidled up beside her ready to pick her up and carry her. Putting up the hand that wasn't hanging onto the counter for dear life, she stopped him.

"No, please…" Her eyes gazed up at him, begging for some semblance of normality. "I'd like to try."

"Okay," he replied, giving it to her. Those eyes were so hard to deny. He'd let her do some things on her own, but at the slightest sign of weakness he'd be there to help her. He was rewarded with one of her gorgeous smiles, and before he knew it, he was smiling back at her as well.

Brennan let go of the counter, finding reassurance in her partner's smile. Putting one wary foot in front of the other, she took her first step. The pain was searing, but she refused to let it get to her. Her mind screamed "You can do this" with every step she took, but her body screamed "Stop!" Although she had the determination and willpower to do almost anything she put her mind to, this simple task would prove to be her downfall. Barely two steps out of the bathroom, she wavered, reaching out for the doorframe and using it to keep herself upright. By this point, the pain had become unbearable and nauseating. Her head began to spin, and suddenly she found herself wishing she hadn't been so stubborn.

At least her partner was there in a flash, nudging his shoulder beneath her arm as he wrapped his free hand around her waist. Within moments, she was swept into the warmth of his embrace, burying her face against his chest as she tried to hide the disappointment and anger she felt at herself. Brennan wasn't a quitter, and she'd been through her fair share of pain, but this was beyond any pain she'd ever experienced. She was in agony; not only physically, but mentally as well.

Tears welled up in her eyes before she had time to steel herself from them. As Booth set her down amid her rumpled sheets, they were spilling down her cheeks in torrents. Brennan rolled onto her side, trying to hide them from him, but he'd already felt the gentle shudder of her shoulders. What he did next would completely change the dynamic of their relationship.

Wordlessly, Booth slid beneath the sheets beside her, wrapped his arms around her trembling body, and held her as she cried. Like the many times before, she didn't resist; instead, she buried her face in his chest and wept. But his embrace felt different this time. He cradled the back of her head with his hand, murmuring soft, encouraging words in her ear as he ran his fingers through her hair. It soothed her all the way down to the depths of her weak and damaged soul.

So overcome by her emotions, Brennan realized she had no choice but to give in and let everything run its course. Her arms came around her partner's neck as the sobs wracked her body, shaking her to the core. He simply remained still, tightening his embrace as his words became peppered with soft kisses against her temple or forehead. Of all the times he'd held her in the midst of an emotional breakdown, none had ever been this intense. Not only did she feel beaten, broken, and completely out of control, she also felt incredibly safe and secure wrapped up in his arms. It was almost too much for her, and her sobs increased in pitch as a myriad of unfamiliar emotions flooded her senses.

For the first time in a very long time, Temperance Brennan remembered what it felt like to be loved unconditionally. And it scared her to death.


	9. Chapter 8

_AN: OMG! Yes, I know it's been forever since I posted anything regarding this story. There has been so so much on my plate that I haven't really had time to look at it or even write. Work is INSANE! And on top of all that, I'm most likely headed back to school. I've got a class next week for my Skywarn certification (which allows me to spot potential severe weather and report it to the proper authorities.) I'm following that up with 10 days crisscrossing the US with the Collage of DuPage as part of a meteorology class. Yes, people, I am a certified storm chaser! Crazy to the core! LoL. Anyway, I'm hoping things will wind down soon so that I'll be able to get back on the writing horse and have some new stories up for y'all. Just give me some time.  
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_Big thank yous to my beta, **wrthy2bluvd **for sticking with me. I hope to someday return that favor. Love ya, chica!  
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**_PSA: Paris and Allegra are currently MIA and need your help! Please review and let them know you're enjoying the story. Hopefully with your help, they'll come back and finally let me finish this story. -DK  
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**Chapter 8**

Afternoon passed slowly into evening, and even though Brennan had fallen into a fitful sleep in his arms, Booth refused to release his hold. A part of him feared waking her while another part craved the closeness she afforded him in these few unguarded moment. An even smaller part, the part that always piped in when he felt some doubt over her safety, feared that if he did leave her, she'd wake up alone and terrified. It was the part he chose to ignore due to the incessant ringing coming from his cell phone in the living room. Untangling himself from his partner's grasp ever so gently then setting her back onto her pillow, he finally rose from the bed and stretched. He pulled the covers over her bare shoulders and with a soft kiss against her forehead, he headed into the living room where he'd let his phone ring long enough.

Looking at the missed call log, Booth realized he'd finally have to make that last phone call… to his boss. Although he dreaded it, there was no way around it. Taking a deep breath before pressing the send button, Booth stood in the middle of the living room trying to figure out what to tell Cullen.

"Agent Booth," the voice on the other ended sounded quite unhappy, if not angry. Then the sarcasm kicked in, "It's nice of you to finally check in."

"I know, I should have called and taken a sick day, but with what happened this morning, I really didn't have…" Booth started to ramble off the haphazardly assembled apology he'd come up with in his head just moments earlier before he got cut off.

"Is this about Dr. Brennan?" the deputy director replied. Booth's mouth hung open for several moments as he tried to figure out how Cullen knew about his partner. "Dr. Saroyan informed me of her prognosis." Cam… go figure.

"Yeah… um… right… Dr. Saroyan…" he stumbled looking for a response. There were few times Booth had ever found himself at a loss for words, and this just had to be one of them.

"Will Dr. Brennan be alright?" Cullen continued asking questions, giving the agent time to come up with answers.

Booth sighed deeply. Glancing through the open door of her bedroom, he spied his partner curled tightly in a little ball, her arms around her left leg, her faced creased in unconscious pain. It tugged at his heartstrings, and immediately prompted his mouth to start moving. "From what the doctor at the ER said, it looks like she'll be out of commission for a few months. Brennan tore her hamstring pretty bad so she'll need to see an orthopedic specialist and a physical therapist. Right now she's on some pretty strong pain killers and the doctor advised us that she'll need someone to look after her for a little while until she's well enough to stand on her own two feet," he softly explained as he took a seat on the couch and continued to watch his partner to make sure she didn't awake screaming in pain.

That's when he realized he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her, not after everything he'd seen in the last few hours. She was far too fragile to be left alone right now. Her mind just wasn't clear, and her body was far from healed. Brennan needed someone who could take care of her, not just physically, but mentally as well. Although he knew Angela would probably do a good job, there was a part of Booth that knew he could do just as well, if not better. The way Angela had stared at him that afternoon, her eyes calculating, unreadable, made him think that maybe she was trying to make a decision about whether or not he was capable of helping her friend.

His epiphany was so sudden, so shocking, yet so straightforward and simple that it left Booth speechless as Cullen continued to ask questions that never quite reached his ears. By leaving him to take care of her best friend, Angela had already made up her mind. She trusted him. And that was more than Booth could ever ask for. It prompted a complete and total change of direction in his conversation with his boss, startling them both when he finally voiced what his mind had been toying with all day.

"Sir," Booth said with total disregard to any pertinent questions Cullen might have asked while he'd been dwelling on Angela's actions. "I'd like to take whatever vacation time I've accumulated over the last few years and cash them in now."

Several long moments of silence passed making Booth wonder if he'd been hung up on or his phone had died, but when Cullen suddenly cleared his voice, it sent him almost jumping to his feet.

"That's quite a request, Agent Booth," his boss finally replied. "And a little sudden. You know the rules…"

"I can still claim a family emergency," Booth replied, his mind working overtime to remember the guidelines for long absences. Family had to be one of them. And Brennan was family.

A sigh… Another long moment of tense silence, then finally, "You're lucky you and Dr. Brennan have the highest success rate in the Bureau, otherwise I'd never sign off on anything like this."

Booth couldn't help the smile that grew on his lips, but he had to keep his excitement in check as he replied evenly, "Thank you, Sir." That was all. Cullen hung up on him, leaving the young agent standing in his partner's living room staring in disbelief at his phone. Had that really just happened? Had his boss actually given him the next few weeks off to take care of his partner? Then he suddenly realized… Sweets was going to hear all about this, and therapy would probably get even more uncomfortable than it already was.

Groaning inwardly, Booth tossed his phone onto the coffee table. Therapy would be nearly unbearable those first few sessions when they returned from this little break. Sweets would probably want them to go into detail about their feelings for one another, especially since it was Booth who had made the decision to take a few weeks off to take care of Brennan. He shuddered at the thought. It was bad enough he had uncontrollable feelings where his partner was concerned. Voicing them would most likely get him into some pretty deep trouble.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), those thoughts would be kept at bay for a little longer when he heard Brennan cry out his name in near agony from the bedroom. Booth practically ran to her side to make sure everything was alright only to find her curled up again in the fetal position with her arms wrapped around her leg. The clock on the nightstand read 6:23PM, well past Brennan's last dose of pain killers.

"Shh," he leaned down and cooed in her ear. "It'll be okay, Bones. Try to relax. I'll be right back with your meds." It somewhat did the trick. Her body did relax to a degree as a few labored breaths escaped her lungs, and after several moments, things returned to normal, allowing him to slip out of the bedroom and head back into the kitchen where he'd left the two pill bottles on the counter.

Taking one capsule out of each, he was ready to set them down when he noticed the warning on the Diclofenac. Brennan needed to eat before taking those pills? Great… he'd already let her take them once on an empty stomach. He wasn't about to let her do it again. Although the takeout he'd ordered several hours ago was probably cold by now, he grabbed the box that contained the fried rice and one of the plastic forks the restaurant had packed with the food. Taking a detour to the fridge, he pulled out a bottle of water, somehow managed to balance everything in one arm as he headed back to the bedroom.

Brennan was laying on her back staring at the ceiling with empty eyes as she waited for her partner's return. Since she'd awoken writhing in pain, her thoughts had been dark and depressing almost to the point of being suicidal. She hated feeling so helpless, hated that she depended on pain medications to ease her suffering. What made things even worse was depending on someone to bring them to her. That's when she curled up again, wishing that her partner wasn't around to see her like this. It was bad enough he had to pick up the pieces after all her emotional breakdowns, but this? This was too much to ask for. She couldn't let him continue to stay with her. He had his own responsibilities, his job, his son. She should have been on the very bottom of his priorities list.

When Booth arrived with her pills, she glanced over at him, her eyes still red rimmed and shining from her latest outburst. She quickly buried her face in her pillow, hoping that he hadn't seen her, but the bed bobbed and rolled as he sat down at her side. Her mind screamed for her to tell him to get out, that she hadn't invited him into her bedroom, let alone her bed. He was invading her personal space. Although she wanted to do that, the part of her that seemed less rational had quickly silenced her when she felt his hand filter through her hair and his voice, rich and velvety, whisper, "You okay, Bones?"

"…M fine," came Brennan's mumbled response from the pillow. He continued to gently stroke the top of her head, the motion soothing and gentle, silencing all the thoughts that had been running rampant in her mind. For some strange reason, she wanted him to stay. Just knowing he was there made the pain all that much better. It was as if being near him healed her faster. The rational part of her brain quickly rejected that theory telling her she'd gone crazy.

"Here, I got your pills," Booth replied, his hand still buried in the tangled mass of her sepia colored hair. She raised her head off the pillow and glanced up at him, their eyes meeting for the first time that evening. There was a flicker of her inner struggle reflected in her steel blue eyes, but it quickly disappeared when she realized he'd caught it. An emptiness quickly replaced it, something that pained him even more than whatever her mind was warring over. He wanted to tell her that everything would be alright and that she had nothing to worry about, but something told him this wasn't a good idea. She would just pull further away if he even mentioned it.

"Can I have my pills please?" Brennan finally asked, knocking him out of his thoughts.

"Sure," Booth replied, extending his hand. As she reached up to take them from him, he quickly pulled back. "You need to eat first," he added.

Her stomach dropped. She wasn't hungry in the least. In fact, food seemed like the enemy at the moment. Just thinking about eating nauseated her. A frown curved her lips downward into almost a pout making him smile back at her. "I'm not very hungry," she finally answered.

"Then I can't give you your pills until you eat," he said, continuing to hold her medications hostage.

"Why not?" she whined.

"Because it says so on the bottle."

She let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed the box of takeout he'd left on the bed in between them. Resting her weight on her elbows, she pulled the paper clasp open then reached for the fork. After having put a heaping helping of rice into her mouth, she chewed, swallowed, then held out her hand. "There, I ate."

Booth chuckled. "Not enough," he replied, folding his arms over his chest and making sure the hand that held her pills was well out of her reach. "C'mon, Bones, you need to eat. It's healthy and it'll make you feel better." He saw her roll her eyes, but yet another forkful of fried rice entered her mouth. After about a dozen more, she finally put it down, her eyes pleading with him silently to allow her to stop. That's when he knew she'd had enough, even if it would barely sustain her for the next hour or so. But at least she was eating.

Unscrewing the cap from the water bottle, Booth handed it to his partner along with her pills. She greedily gulped them down, laying back on her pillow as she closed her eyes and snuggled into the warmth of the blanket. Her deep sigh told him she was content and getting ready to fall asleep again. Taking that as his cue to leave, he grabbed the barely eaten box of fried rice and the fork then headed to the kitchen to have his own dinner before returning to her side.

Within fifteen minutes, he'd managed to eat, throw the dishes into the dishwasher, and find an old National Geographic magazine stashed beneath the pile of forensic journals on the coffee table. He couldn't care less about whatever topics were discussed in the magazine, the photos had always managed to mesmerize him. Booth made his way back to the bedroom to find Brennan still awake, staring at the door with blank, emotionless eyes. She clicked out of her stupor when he entered, steel blue pools fixing on him.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked, looking a bit confused. "I thought you went home already."

"Nonsense, Bones. I'm staying the night..." Under his breath, he added, "And then some."

Her brows furrowed. "Why?"

"You heard the doctor this morning. You need someone to stick around for the next few weeks, make sure you're okay..." He stopped, seeing the frown on her pale lips. She was still having a hard time accepting help from her friends, and he wasn't about to make it worse. But he wasn't about to leave her alone either. He chose another tactic. Slipping his hand over hers, he waited a moment to see if she would pull away then said, "I know this is hard for you. I know you're not comfortable with giving up whatever control you have over your life, so I'll try to give you as much distance as you want. But if you need me, I'll be right here, okay?"

That seemed to do the trick. With steel blue eyes focused on the edge of the comforter, she nodded her acceptance of his proposal and in a barely audible voice replied, "Okay."

"Will you be alright for a few minutes while I run back to my place and grab a few things?" Booth asked.

"I'll be fine," Brennan softly reassured him as her hand slipped out of his grasp and she snuggled back into the sheets. He sat at the edge of the bed for a couple moments more, just to be sure, then stood and walked out of the room, leaving her to lay there by herself as the drugs took effect.


End file.
